After the War
by WantedWild
Summary: With Erebor slowly being rebuilt, Thorin is under more pressure than ever. Will the presence of a dwarf maiden, one that defies every traditional notion of how a female dwarf should be, cause him to break? Or will she keep him together?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

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><p>A dwarf dam's beauty was measured by a few narrow mindsets – was she plump? Short (compared to her male counterpart)? How did she dress? Was she stout but feminine in her dress? Red hair was preferred, but did she elegantly style her hair? Were her eyes blue? If the answer to all these questions was an affirmative, the dwarf dam was then labeled a great beauty among dwarves, and her hand was greatly coveted by those who wished to marry.<p>

With such strict parameters of beauty, the sight of a dwarf woman that did not fit any of these "rules," but whose beauty could not be denied, quickly drew attention.

Dwarf women were scarce and had always been expected to wear beards amongst non-dwarves for their own safety.

So Canna expected the shocked reactions of those around her as she boldly strode into the newly reclaimed Erebor. She just did not expect the other reactions as well.

"Is she traveling alone? With no beard? And such clothes!"

"She is beautiful…unlike anything I ever seen…"

"Look at her! Is she even fully a dwarf? She's a mixed breed, I know it…"

"Ay, but still a beaut…"

"Looking like herself and traveling with no beard…who is she?"

"Wait! Is that – is that a sword I see? Mahal, she's a warrior!"

Canna pulled up the hood of her cloak and ignored the voices of those around her as she entered Erebor alongside the other newcomers. Every day, dwarves streamed into the great mountain, rejoicing in the death of the dragon and the success of Thorin Oakenshield and his company.

But Canna was not here for that. She had been called by an old friend, nothing more, nothing less.

All newcomers were first summoned to the Hall of Kings. The smooth golden floor echoed under their footsteps as the great hall was slowly filled. Finally, an herald appeared and shouted "King Thorin arrives!"  
>The few that had sat down in fatigue scrambled to their feet as the king and his entourage appeared. Thorin stood in front of his throne and appeared to survey the newcomers, his gaze calculating.<p>

He certainly was a handsome dwarf, tall and dark and brooding.

Canna kept her hood up and remained hidden by a pillar. She scanned his entourage, noting the two young dwarves on either side of the king. His nephews, Fili and Kili.

When her eyes landed on one particular dwarf amongst Thorin's men, a smile lit her face. She waited.

"I trust your journey here was not too difficult," Thorin began. His deep rumbling voice echoed in the golden hall. "Food and shelter will be provided for all of you. My wish is that you will all prosper here, and lend your skills and talents to the mountain in return. You are safe now. We will protect you."

A collective sigh rose up from the dwarves around her. Canna remained impassive.

"Before we all eat, one of my people will find all of you rooms that will become your home." On cue, two dwarves appeared and ushered the newcomers to an adjacent room. The new dwarves all bowed deeply to the king and left. The hall was suddenly empty, except for Thorin, his men, and Canna who remained hidden.

"So many of our people come back to us every day," one of the dwarves mused.

"Yes," was Thorin's reply.

As they all turned to leave, Canna quickly moved to action. "Oy, you sent a raven to me and asked me to come here, and I don't even get a greeting?" With her hood thrown off and a mischievous grin on her face, Canna strode forwards.

"Who are you?" Thorin demanded to know, before one of his entourage stepped forward with a wide smile.

"Canna!"

"Balin."

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><p>It was with great joy that Canna and Balin embraced each other. "My, lassie, look at you! A true warrior if I ever saw one."<p>

Canna smiled. "Ever the flatterer, old one. Now tell me, why did you ask me to come?"

"Can an old dwarf not wish to see if his old friend's daughter is taking care of herself?" the white-bearded dwarf replied. "Now that you are here, there are a few here I wish you to meet." With that, he maneuvered the young dwarf maiden to stand before Thorin. "Canna, I give you King Thorin, son of Thrain, Lord Under the Mountain."

Canna gave a slight bow, which caused Thorin's eyebrow to raise. "That is quite a title," said the girl, somewhat cheekily. She could not help it; the glare that seemed stuck to the king's face amused, rather than frightened, her.

"It was hard won," he grunted in reply, his glare even more piercing if possible.

Balin quickly intervened. "Canna is quite a swordswoman, Thorin. It is my thought that, with the need to train so many new warriors, and with all of us being so busy, she could be of some help."

A surprised Canna was about to inject her own opinion when Thorin exclaimed, "A maiden? Training our men? Look at her, Balin. I will not allow this!"

Canna bristled. She was well used to such an outlook, but it never ceased to enrage her. "King Under the Mountain," she spat. "Do not underestimate me, as many others have done before. They have all come to regret it, and you will too. This I swear."

Suddenly Thorin was towering over her. "Are you threatening me?"

"No," she repeated, unfazed as she stared up into his icy grey glare. "I'm promising you."

"Now, now, you two." Balin once again moved himself between the king and the dwarf woman, this time signaling to the other hereby forgotten dwarves to come forward. "Fili, Kili, this is my young friend, Canna."

With matching smiles, the two brothers swept forward, each grasping one of her pale hands and bestowing a kiss upon it. "My lady," Fili murmured with a winning smile.

Canna grinned. "Gallantry will get you nowhere, young princes. The pleasure is mine."

"And this is Bifur, Bofur, Oin, and Nori," Balin introduced, pointing to each dwarf who smiled and bowed. "They were all part of our original group."

"Indeed." Canna bowed once more. "A pleasure."

Thorin was still glaring at her; she could feel his gaze on her. _If he was a dragon, he could smote me with his glare alone if he could_, Canna thought a bit wryly.

"Come," Balin said with a fond smile. "I will take it upon myself to find you housing. Follow me, now."

Canna smiled at the group of dwarves once more before hoisting her sword on her back once more and striding after the old dwarf. She could still feel a pair of eyes digging into the back of her head; she did not need to guess whose eyes it was.

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><p><strong>Disclaimer for the entire story: <strong>

**Never throughout this story do Thorin, the original company of the "Hobbit," or any characters that appear in the original "Hobbit" or "Lord of the Rings" are mine. **

**However, Canna is mine. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

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><p>Thorin until Balin and the dwarf woman had left before facing his men. "Come; what's next?"<p>

"Bombur wishes you to come down to the forges with him to survey his latest batch of armor," Bifur replied.

"And then you must talk with our new healers supplies for the healing ward," Oin added. "Then there is dinner, which you _will_ attend, Thorin."

Thorin scoffed, but nodded. "Alright, I will head to the forges with Fili and Kili. The rest of you all, find some work to do until dinner." With that, the company disassembled and Thorin strode out of the Hall of Kings, his nephews in tow. When he was young, the Hall of Kings had been one of his favorite places, a symbol of the might of his people. Now the golden floor and newly remade wall from where Smaug had broken out served as a constant reminder of his downfall to dragon sickness.

_Never again_ had become his mental mantra. _Never again_.

His thoughts turned to Balin's companion, Canna. He was well aware of what made a dwarf maiden beautiful, but never had he met one like her. Her skin was pale like the moon, not rosy. Black hair such as his was not uncommon, but hers was not just thick, but glossy as a raven's, held together in one long braid and swung over one shoulder. Her features were chiseled and delicate. She was neither short nor round, but tall (for a dwarf) and toned. She was dressed in dark leather, a warrior's garb, and her eyes were a startling amber. She was everything that was uncommon and seemingly unlovely, and yet there was no denying her exotic beauty.

However, her bold disrespect towards him, along with Balin's claim that she could train the mountain's troops, made Thorin seethe at the mere memory of it. He would see them at dinner, he was sure, and with her sitting next to Balin, who sat next to him, he would have to make conversation with her.

He had enough troubles already.

Meanwhile, behind him, Fili and Kili were exchanging small grins. "That dwarf maiden is…different," Fili remarked casually.

"Ay." Kili heaved a sigh. "If I was not already promised to Tauriel, then…"

Thorin rolled his eyes. His descent into dragon sickness and subsequent near death at Azhog's hands had changed him; knowing that Tauriel had risked her own life to save Kili, he had finally granted his blessing for their union. Thranduil had been more reluctant, but the war for the mountain had inexplicably altered relationships between the dwarves and the woodland elves for the better. Tauriel and Kili were currently betrothed, on the condition that they wait a year before marrying.

In the meantime, Fili's grin turned thoughtful. "Truly she is quite unlike any dwarf maiden we have seen. Do you suppose she is of mixed breed?"

"Balin would know," Kili replied. "We can ask him later."

"Or we could just ask her," said Fili. "She seems like a bold girl."

"Uncle, why can she not train some of our new recruits?" Kili, the bolder of the two, questioned.

"Because, it is not done," Thorin grunted.

Kili and Fili exchanged incredulous glances. "But our mother wields an axe almost as well as you, Uncle! Times have changed; I have heard rumors that many dwarf dams today have been trained to wield weapons to protect themselves and their families. It is not so uncommon. And Balin trusts her, Uncle. Since when has Balin ever been wrong?"

"Enough!" The three were silent as they finally made it to the forges. There were now many dwarves working there, lead by Bombur.

"Ay, Thorin!" the fat dwarf yelled merrily as he made his way towards them. "Come and see!"

Thorin smiled as he followed Bombur; there would forever be a place in his heart for each of the souls that had accompanied him on the original quest; they were his family. Together, not by himself, would they lead Erebor to greatness; Thorin had learned his lesson on greed far too well.

Bombur's latest work consisted of new armor and weaponry for their burgeoning army; Smaug had destroyed much of the armory.

Thorin closely surveyed the new creations before giving his approval, citing new ideas for the next set. Fili, his heir, was also asked to examine the weapons and armor closely. Thorin had been worried that Fili would not be able to, or wish to, shoulder the burden of one day leading Erebor, but his sister's eldest son was proving to be a worthy heir to the throne.

"Come, we must make for the healers," Thorin announced after embracing Bombur one more time.

He had always hated the healing ward, even as he was trained in rudimentary healing as a young heir. Many of the dwarves that now streamed into Erebor had come injured or ailing, and it was his duty to see to them. The healing wing had been one of the first areas to be rebuilt since reclaiming the mountain.

The head healer was an old dwarf named Girin, who had traveled from the Blue Mountains to lend his knowledge and experience to the king.

"My lord," he said with as deep a bow as his age would allow him. "I trust you are well?"

"Indeed, Girin. Now tell me what you have need of." Thorin had never been fond of initial pleasantries; his days were too busy for such frivolities.

Girin quickly created a list of the healing supplies he was in need of, which Thorin promised to order as soon as possible. As he and his nephews were about to leave, Girin stopped them. "My lord, I would request a word with you privately, if I could."

After a moment, Thorin nodded and Kili and Fili respectfully left.

"What is it?" the king asked without preamble.

"My lord, your wound–"

"–Is fine, I assure you," Thorin huffed, instinctively moving his hand towards his abdomen. "Is that all?"

"Yes, my lord."

Thorin was striding out of the ward before the old dwarf could rise from his bow.

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><p>As he had guessed, Balin and Canna entered the hall together, laughing. Balin took his usual seat at Thorin's right, and coaxed a suddenly hesitant Canna to sit next to him. Thorin eyed the dwarf woman warily; she was no longer in her leather garb, but wore black breeches and a comfortable white shirt.<p>

The thought, _Does she even own a dress or realize that she is a woman?_ crossed Thorin's mind.

Meanwhile, Canna appeared to be attracting much attention from the other dwarves in the hall who could see her. Some seemed enamored by her strange beauty, others perturbed by it. A good portion were curious about her clothing, others offended by it. But all wondered at her sitting at the high table, so close to the king.

Thorin inwardly rolled his eyes. Soon rumors would fly, he was sure. But neither he nor Canna were doing anything to encourage such thoughts. Indeed, the dwarf woman had given another of her cursory bows before almost completely ignoring the king. Her attention remained focus on Balin, Dwalin who had greeted her with a bone-crushing hug, and Fili and Kili.

When Canna was momentarily in deep conversation with his nephews as they regaled her with tales of their quest, Thorin took this opportunity to grab Balin's attention.

"How do you know this…woman?"

Balin smiled. "I knew her father, many years ago."

"And her mother?"

"Ay, I met her too. One of the most beautiful dwarf dams I ever saw, to be sure. Canna looks so much like her."

"So her mother and father were both dwarves?"

Balin's smile turned mildly reproachful at this. "Thorin, such thoughts do not become you. But yes, to answer your question. I have arranged for her to see the training rings tomorrow. It is already done," he added as Thorin opened his mouth to protest. "I recommend that you join us, so you can see her for yourself. Do not bind yourself to archaic notions, Thorin. Middle Earth is always changing, and we must change too if we are to survive."

Thorin did not reply, for lack of an argument. His gaze once again turned to the strange Canna. He decided that now may be the only time he had to speak with her at all.

"So," he began. Canna turned to him, clearly surprised by this initiative. "Where do you hail from?"

"Middle-Earth," she replied with a small smile. The others chuckled; Thorin did not.

"What she means," Balin added with a roll of his eyes, "is that she does not have a specific home. She travels extensively."

"A dwarf maiden, traveling with no home?" The words were out before Thorin could think, and he could see from the way Canna straightened and her wide look turned to a glare that he had once again offended her.

_Her eyes look like fire in her anger_, he noticed off-handedly. "Do you travel alone?"

If not for Balin, Canna was sure she would have thrown her plate of food at the king. "Yes, and I am still hale and hearty, so I would not get your beard in a twist so soon, King."

The manner in which she spat out his title wounded him like no spear could. "You would speak so to your king?"

"You are a king, but you are not my king. I only came here at the request of my friend. I am only staying temporarily, so the threat of banishing me from Erebor is rude but unnecessary. I respect you for your hardships and triumphs, Thorin, son of Thrain, but in turn I expect you to respect me for mine. Being king does not make me lesser than you. I have endured much, and I will not have my self worth sullied by anyone."

Thorin would have responded in a similar heated fashion had he not noticed the increased attention they were drawing. Breathing slowly, he managed to calm himself down enough to ignore her and focus on his plate.

Fili tried to break the tenseness that permeated the head table. "So Balin, Dwalin, is Canna really as good a warrior as she boasts?"

Dwalin guffawed. "Ay, even before I met her, she was a little heathen! But I hear you've had quite a few teachers since then, lassie."

"Ay, one of them being you," Canna responded with a fond smile.

"Indeed, but that sharp tongue of yours is quite a wicked weapon itself, lass," Balin added. "Careful with how you wield it; these days, words can be just as powerful as a sword, and just as deadly."

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><p><strong>Please review! It would mean the world to me. <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

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><p>Canna was still fuming as she made her way back to her room, alone.<p>

_The nerve of that dwarf! _His pigheaded arguments infuriated the pale-skinned dwarf maiden to no end.

Was it really too much to expect the most powerful leader among dwarves to not look down on dwarf dams and their skills?

_Maybe if he could see my skill with sewing, he would change his views_, she thought with a sardonic smile.

The halls of Erebor were well-lit with torches, but there was no denying that the passages were maze-like. Canna found herself wishing she had paid more attention to her surroundings when she had walked with Balin. She had been one of the last to leave dinner, so only a few dwarves remained wandering the hallways. As tempting as it was, Canna refused to ask one of them for directions. She had survived orcs, goblins, wargs, and even disgruntled bees; she could find her way back to her room.

Thirty minutes later, Canna had found the forges, the healing wing, and had even entered the food hall for a second time. But her room remained elusive.

Patience was not a trait dwarves were well-known for. Canna was no exception.

"Curse this mountain and its makers!" she muttered angrily before entering a hallway that appeared different from the others she had gone down. A small sliver of hope grew in her chest.

This passageway appeared to lead to someplace high. Although Canna did not remember taking such a passage with Balin, she did not trust her memory or directional sense at the moment. So she continued to brave the stairways.

At last, the staircase gave way to a hallway, with doors lining each side. They appeared to be living quarters, and Canna excitedly walked down the hallway. She did remember her room having a small blue banner hanging from the door, and searched for that now.

Suddenly the door to her left opened, and a dwarf stepped out. Canna turned to apologize for her presence, but when she saw him they both froze.

He appeared to recover first. "Good eve."

"Good eve…King Thorin."

"Are you lost?"

"No!" she protested vehemently. A small voice inside of her whispered that no one would know the halls of Erebor better than the king himself. Canna promised to skewer that voice, and it fell silent.

That ever-present grey glare was upon her again, but she refused to be baited into a war of stares with him. His next question took her by surprise. "Do you own dresses at all?"

Her eyes swung up to meet his in surprise. Only then did she take in his clothing – he was no longer wearing the armor and heavy cloak that befitted his position, but breeches and a thin shirt that was very similar to what she was currently wearing.

Canna did her very best to keep from flushing, and bravely met his gaze, in which she could detect the slightest smugness.

_I'll show him_. "I have a very few; which I only wear when the circumstance absolutely requires it. There's not much room in my pack for such frivolous clothing when I spend most of my time fighting orcs and goblins, is there, King?"

A myriad of emotions flitted across his face as Canna spoke, but as she expected, he finally settled on anger.

"Perhaps in your…escapades, there is no need for you to dress as a _woman_. But here, in my mountain, you are expected to dress suitably for dinner."

Canna scoffed in outrage and placed her hands on her hips, shoulders squared. For all intents and purposes, she was not at war with the king. "I cannot help but notice that you are the only one that noticed and concerned yourself with such things!"

Thorin rolled his eyes and gazed down at her. "You, you were never unnoticed. Did you really not see? Every dwarf watched you, men and women. _No one_ can help but notice you. Look at you."

His voice had lowered and he took a step closer to her, which made the hairs on Canna's neck stand on end. Pulling herself to her full height, which was still shorter than Thorin, she growled, "Are you merely insulting me, or threatening me?"

"I'm promising you." Having her words from their first meeting thrown back at her caught Canna off guard, which only served to fuel her anger.

"_Good eve_, King," she hissed before turning back to the staircase she had come from.

"I believe your rooms are situated in the quarters near the library. Bottom of this passageway, then to your right." With that, the king turned and went back into his quarters, the door shutting behind him.

As Canna walked down the staircase, she found herself even angrier with Thorin Oakenshield. _How dare he make me indebted to him!_

It was this thought that echoed in her dreams as she fell asleep in her own bed, in her own room, at last.

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><p>At dawn the next morning, Canna was surprised to find not only Balin, but also Fili and Kili, waiting to escort her to the training grounds.<p>

"Forgive me, just one more minute," she told them apologetically before quickly throwing her long black hair into its usual thick braid and strapping her weapons on.

The walk to the arena was not nearly as long with company to entertain her. Still, Canna carefully noted the passages they took this time.

"Canna, where did you journey to here from?" Kili enquired.

"From Beorn's territory, near the edge of Mirkwood."

"So far!" Fili exclaimed. "Were you attacked on your journey here?"

"More spiders than I expected, but with most of the Woodland elves returning from the war at that time, it was to be expected. Otherwise, not at all. You did the realms a great favor by destroying Smaug and Azhog the Defiler."

Her words were met with kind smiles from her companions.

"Now," she said briskly. "Tell me about your new army. How many, of what ages, and how do you plan to arrange them?"

Fili and Balin quickly filled her in on the details as they arrived at the training grounds. These grounds were deeper into the mountain, but were far more vast than what Canna had been expecting.

"Ay, Thorin commanded that the training grounds be expanded. We did what we could in such little time, but it has come out nicely," Balin informed her.

There were multiple arenas, each with specific purposes. The one closest to her was filled with about thirty young dwarves in light garb, carrying wooden weapons and looking thoroughly disgruntled about it.

Canna grinned. "Well, anything in particular I should know about this lot?"

"No, lassie. Just…don't go easy on them."

"Ay." Canna smiled before marching over to her new subordinates. "Oy, you lot! Form a rank! Six to a row, move!"

For a full minute the young men stopped and stared at Canna, both at her exotic beauty and the fact that she was their captain. Canna waited, and when she could wait no more, calmly walked towards the closest of the dwarves, swung out one of her swords, and cleanly cut off a lock of his hair.

There were shouts of surprise and outrage from the group, but Canna shushed them with a roar. "Next time, it will be your beards." As one, they all moved a step away from her; to threaten a dwarf's beard was akin to threatening their honor.

"Now, I want rows."

After a bit of scrambling, it was done. The next few minutes were spent teaching them how to carry themselves, their weapons, and march as one. The threat of losing their beards increased their focus, and within two hours they had done well enough that Canna allowed them a short rest.

As they were gulping down water, one of them approached her. "Begging your pardon, my lady…"

"Canna."

"Canna, yes. Well, we were all wondering, if you, for our sakes, would put on your beard?"

Canna's amber gaze went from open to icy in a second. "Why?"

"Because, well…it would be easier for us, my l – Canna, if you would."

"Why?"

The young lad began to squirm under her icy tone and gaze. "I, well…it's not right, fighting with a dwarf dam. For our sakes, please, miss."

_Maybe the air in this mountain is making the men more stupid than usual_. "No, I won't, young one. I have fought and killed far more orcs than you would imagine, to have to dress myself up just because you lot can't keep your heads straight! Now, what I will do is spar with anyone here. If even one of you lot can defeat me, I will grant whatever it is you wish. Is that suitable?"

She was aware that many eyes were on her and her men. If she could not convince the king that she was capable, she could at least convince this small portion of Erebor's growing population.

The largest and boldest of her group stepped forward, a large wooden sword in his hands. Canna exchanged her steel for a wooden one as well before facing her new opponent. She held her sword in a loose, almost clumsy position, and smiled at him disarmingly.

With a mighty roar the dwarf came towards her, sword singing. Canna neatly sidestepped and hit him behind the knees, sending her burly opponent to the ground, face hitting the dirt.

Canna ignored the laughter and held out a hand to help the young dwarf to his feet. He ignored her hand, but did give her a small bow before retreating.

Twenty-nine more times, Canna faced her subordinates. Twenty-nine times did they gain a little more respect for her.

"Well!" She turned to face her recently defeated men, to find them all standing in rank, six in a row, arms straight.

Canna smiled. "I think we've taken enough for the first day. I expect to see you here, in rank, tomorrow at dawn. Good work today. Be off with you."

As her men cleared out of the arena, she was approached by Fili, Kili, Balin, and Dwalin.

"How long have you been here?" she addressed Dwalin with a grin.

"Oy, just in time to see you send the last two pigs to the ground. You earned their respect today, lass."

Canna's smile turned to a frown. "Aye, if only I didn't have to earn it. Especially in such a manner. They're all good lads."

"You did what was necessary," Balin reasoned, smiling kindly. "Now go and clean yourself up, you are my guest, and I will not have you forgetting to feed yourself."

Canna laughed and swung towards the entrance, only to find herself in a familiar position – suddenly facing the king of the mountain.

His gaze was pinning her more than a boulder ever could. Canna wanted to ask if he had seen her, how much he had seen, if he still thought she could not train these men. Did he respect her even a little bit more?

She meant to ask him all these. Instead, the words, "I'm good, aren't I?" slipped out of her mouth.

Balin grabbed her hand and pulled her past Thorin before he could reply.

On their way to her room, Canna wondered how far she could push the king before he pushed back. It was in her nature to confront people, to aggressively defend her beliefs.

But could she really expect one such as herself to change the beliefs of King Thorin, son of Thrain, Lord Under the Mountain?

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><p><strong>Thank you so much for those reviews! They really motivated me to finish this chapter early. <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

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><p>She was smart; Thorin would give her that much. He had not planned to watch the outspoken dwarf maiden with her recruits at all; at least, not until she had suddenly appeared in front of his rooms, confused and embarrassed and even more lovely than he thought possible.<p>

He did not know why he had suddenly felt the need to impress her conspicuousness to her, to force her to note her own beauty. He had always noticed dwarf dams, but had never done more than note their presence and connections.

And then, to his surprise, Canna did not take his words as an overture or even as a compliment, but as an insult, nay, a threat! Thorin would have thought she was being coy, if not for the fire in her eyes. It had almost made him laugh.

He had only gone to the training grounds the next morning to see if she could make him laugh again. She did not.

Watching Canna quickly defeat each recruit within a minute, with no flair or glibness, he felt the first small spark of respect grudgingly take hold of him.

Of course, she ruined that when she said, "I'm good, aren't I?"

_Balin was wise to take her away quickly_. And Fili and Kili had quickly followed after them. Dwalin strode up to him. "Well, Thorin? How long were you watching?"

"Long enough."

"And?"

"She is…adequate. For now."

Dwalin chuckled and rolled his eyes, slapping the king's shoulder affectionately. "Ay, Thorin, you'll never concede, will you? I trained her myself, at one time. She's a good lass."

Balin had returned, without Canna. "Thorin, don't forget that Dain wishes to speak with you today. He will arrive here from the Iron Hills soon."

"Have rooms been readied for him and his company?" Thorin inquired.

"Yes, yes."

"What do you suppose he's coming for?" asked Dwalin.

Balin shrugged. "Perhaps he's here to check on what few of his men are left in the healing wing. They are all healed well enough now to return to their home."

"Is that all?" Thorin was suspicious.

With a sigh, the white-bearded dwarf shook his head. "These are only guesses on my part, Thorin. But I should tell you that there has been talk of strengthening the connection between Erebor and the Iron Hills."

Dwalin scoffed. "Strengthening the bond? Dain is our king's cousin, and he risked himself for our sakes! You do not get a stronger bond than that!"

"Yes, you do," Thorin rumbled, "by marriage."

The three friends remained silent until Thorin spun around and left the training grounds. With a look at his brother, Balin turned and followed his king.

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><p>Dain and his entourage arrived in time for the midday meal. Dain and Thorin fondly embraced each other on site – politics aside, they were kin first, as well as comrades in battle.<p>

"What brings you here, cousin?" said Thorin.

"Do I really need a reason to come see my cousin?" was his loud reply. Everything Dain did was loud. It was as endearing as it was infuriating at times.

With their added guests, the midday meal was even more boisterous than normal. While Balin took his usual seat, Canna did not sit with him. In fact, as Thorin subtly searched the crowd for a familiar pale face and glossy black hair, he did not see Canna anywhere. He thought to question Fili and Kili, but Dain sat between them, and after his conversation with Balin and Dwalin, he did not want to bring up any dwarf maiden, even an inconsequential one.

Dain and Thorin spoke of many things at the midday meal, but nothing that could indicate Dain's real reason for traveling to Erebor.

So when the meal was finished, and Balin suggested they speak in Thorin's private quarters, all were surprised when Dain suggested that they speak in the library instead.

_Surely he is not here to read_, Thorin thought with a smile.

Dain and Thorin headed the group. Thorin looked behind him for a quick head count, only to see Kili and Fili whispering to themselves and looking uneasy. Seeing his gaze on them, they suddenly volunteered to travel ahead of the group and clear the library of people.

"Oy, that ain't necessary, ladies!" Dain bellowed merrily. "They'll clear out fast enough when they see our pretty faces, won't they?"

Everyone laughed, but Kili and Fili only fidgeted more. Thorin questioned them with his eyes. Kili moved forward to whisper something in his ear, but before he could, Dain had pulled Thorin into a brotherly side embrace. Whatever Kili and Fili had to say was lost. Thorin squashed the burgeoning feeling of uneasiness.

At least they reached the library. Some of it had been destroyed in fire, but a miraculously large portion of it remained untouched, preserving the history of Erebor. Thorin threw open the large doors and welcomed his guests inside.

The torches were already lit, bathing the library in light. Thorin led the company deeper into the library and was just telling them to sit in nearby chairs when out of the corner of his eye he potted a flash of pale skin. There, standing in the corner of the library and contentedly reading a book, was Canna.

_This maiden will be the death of me_. "I want the library cleared of all visitors!" Thorin roared.

Apparently ignorant of their presence, Canna's amber eyes jolted to his, before quickly surveying his company. Her eyes widened at the sight of Dain before she ducked her head and placed the book on the shelf and walked past them, to the library's entrance.

"Forgive me," she murmured with a soft smile to the company, before slipping out.

It seemed that the entire company were held breathless in her presence, for a minute after she had left, there was still silence.

As expected, Dain was the first to regain his voice. "That dam…who is she?"

"Canna, the daughter of an old friend of mine," Balin responded. "She's visiting Erebor as my guest."

"Daughter, eh? Is her father anyone I'd know?"

"I doubt it, my lord," the old dwarf said with a diplomatic smile. "Now, on to–"

"Are you sure she's a dwarf, and not some mixed breed?" Dain wondered.

"She is no mixed breed." Thorin was surprised to find that these were his words, and reflected on the irritation he felt. Had he not also asked the same question once? Perhaps that was why.

"Anyways," he continued irascibly, "she is of no consequence. Tell me why you have come all this way."

Dain stood to his feet. "Well, first I came to take back my men! I hear they are well healed."

"Yes, my lord, all except one, who will need to stay a bit longer," said Balin. "Is that all?"

"Of course it isn't!" Dain walked closer to where Thorin stood. "Thorin, now may not be the time for this, but soon you must think of marriage."

"And why should I?" Thorin bristled. "I already have heirs; Fili and Kili are as much my sons as any children I sired would be. I have no wish to take the throne away from them, especially after all they have done for me. I have no need to sire another bloodline."

Fili and Kili puffed their chests out in pride, and walked to stand on either side of their beloved uncle.

Dain threw his hands into the air. "Fine then! Even if you have no need to sire heirs, Erebor still needs a queen. It will strengthen your position, and take some of the pressure off of you, cousin. Don't you think I understand the position you are in, rebuilding your kingdom? If you pick well, your queen should be able to handle some of your responsibilities, Thorin. Consider it."

"And I suppose I am to choose from the dwarven nobility?" Thorin scoffed. "I have all the connections I need. I have you, cousin, and any other region that wishes to share in our newfound prosperity. I have no need to barter a wife in exchange for future aid."

Dain stomped his foot. "Ay, Thorin, I see war hasn't made you any less stubborn! Fine, if you do not desire heirs or connections, still get a wife. If you do not seek one in the nobility, then at least choose one that will limit your burden. I speak to you from love, cousin, and from my own experiences. Choose well. Whether she is a nobledam or not, I will support your decision. Just consider it."

The conversation was quickly wearing down Thorin's patience, so in an effort to end the dialogue, Thorin nodded his head and promised to consider it, before quickly ushering everyone out of the library. However, Dain stopped everyone and turned to Balin. "Why do you lot think I asked to meet in the library? There was something I have been looking for, that I hope is in your library."

Balin promised to search for whatever it was himself, after they visited the healing wing.

And so it was that Thorin ended the subject of marriage with Dain Ironfoot…for the time being.

"That dwarf dam," Dain began on their way to the healing wing, "there's something familiar about her…Not _her_, of course, I'm sure I would remember a maiden like her…but someone like her, maybe…oy, never mind. I'm sure my men will be eager to see their families, so if it's no trouble we'd like quarters for the night, and we'll be leaving on the morrow, cousin."

Thorin was just about to reply when Bombur came running up to them, huffing and puffing. "Thorin, there's trouble on the north passage! Someone's fallen!"

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><p><strong>Thank you so much for those reviews! I wasn't planning on finishing this chapter until tomorrow, but those reviews really pushed me to finish this early!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

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><p>Not since the quest had Thorin seen Bombur move at such speed, as the entire group ran to the north passageway, which led to the forges. After Smaug had crippled the passage, they had created an altered path, which ran alongside a deep mining pit.<p>

There was already a small crowd of miners around the area where the dwarf had fallen.

"Who fell? Does anyone know?" Thorin called out.

A dwarf in simple armor came forward, holding his shaking son in his arms. "Ay, my lord, it was the warrior woman, Canna. I – I asked her to come down to the forges with me to look at some armor. My son was running and he tripped, my lord, and well… she managed to catch him, but when I grabbed him she lost balance and – and…fell. It's my fault, my lord."

As he talked, some of Bombur's men arrived with ropes and torches.

"Canna! Are you there? Can you hear me?" Balin called down into the dark pit. There was no response.

Thorin called Bombur to him and muttered, "What are her chances?"

Bombur sighed. "There are a few ledges here and there. If she's lucky, she landed on one of them. If she didn't…no dwarf could survive that fall, Thorin."

Thorin sighed and shook off the sudden image of Canna lying on the cold floor of the pit, her white skin blue in death, blood seeping from her body. There would be no such deaths in his mountain, if he could help it.

The king began issuing orders. "You there, light the torch over there, with the long handle. You! Wrap the rope around the torch. Leave some rope dangling down."

Once his orders were carried out, Thorin took the rope himself and began lowering it down, with the lit torch attached. Slowly, the darkness of the pit was pushed away by the light from the torch. They were quite a ways down, with no sign of Canna, when the dampness in the pit took out the fire. Thorin growled in anger and swung the rope in irritation. He began to pull it back up when it snagged on something. At least, that was what Thorin thought, but then he felt the rope being pulled weakly.

"Canna, is that you!" he bellowed. There was no reply, but the rope was pulled a little harder.

"Are you wounded? Pull the rope once if you are, twice if you are not."

After a moment, the rope was yanked once.

Thorin took a deep breath and thought of a plan. "Are you able to tie the rope around you? We need to pull you up. Can you do that?"

She answered with one soft yank. Thorin gave her more rope, and he could faintly here her moving against the wall. Every once in a while she let out a groan, and everyone would flinch.

At last, the rope was given a tug. She was ready. Bombur, Balin, and the dwarf whose son Canna had saved were already lined up behind Thorin, ready to bring her back.

"We will begin now." That was all the warning Thorin allowed the dwarf maiden before they began pulling. Immediately they heard a moan before she seemed to restrain herself. The men pulled with more vigor. Thorin did his utmost to block out the small gasps she let out, and when he came into view, he was almost relieved. Both her arms seemed bent, most likely dislocated, and she had marks on her neck, but otherwise she appeared relatively unharmed.

Thorin was the first to haul her into his arms. She gave out a hiss and said through clenched teeth, "By all means, feel free to cause me more pain."

_Even in pain, your tongue knows no bounds_. Thorin outwardly ignored her and proceeded to hand her into Bombur's waiting arms. A messenger had already been sent to the healing wing, and soon two dwarves returned with a net in which to carry her.

Canna was just being led away when her fingers grasped Thorin's shirt. Feeling her tug, Thorin obliged and leaned down towards her, focusing on her bright amber eyes, clear even when she was in pain.

He would have been distracted by her closeness if she had not whispered, "You may want to consider building railings, King."

_At least I have another reason not to visit the healing wing_.

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><p><strong>Sorry this is a short chapter, everyone! Thank you so so much for the reviews! Happy Friday!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

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><p>Canna was accustomed to being stared at. However, she was not accustomed to being stared at in a moment of weakness. So the journey from the north passage to the healing wing, being carried in a net by two able-bodied dwarves through the busy hallways, cut through Canna's pride more than being hoisted into the stubborn king's arms by a rope did.<p>

Her attempts to walk herself were ignored; unbeknownst to her, Balin had quietly warned her two transporters to ignore any attempts at independency. He had also given one of them a hastily written letter, to be read by the healer.

Canna silently stewed. If both of her arms were not practically immovable, she would have let her hair out of its braid in order to form some sort of cloak. The effort it had taken to tie the rope around her body had taken whatever strength her arms had left.

Of course, it was all the fault of King Thorin.

Canna smirked to herself; that pigheaded dwarf would not dare lash out at an injured maiden. As long as she had to suffer through the healing process, she would be sure to use her wounds to her advantage.

If she were honest, she was well aware that she should not be so hard on the king. Not only was it dangerous, but it was unreasonable.

_But it is certainly amusing_.

From all she had seen and heard, Thorin Oakenshield was not used to being challenged in such a way. He had been challenged through war, through pain, through losing his family, through dragon sickness, through the burden of responsibility. But he had never been challenged is such mundane ways.

Canna corrected herself. _Of course he would not be; nothing in his life has ever been mundane_.

The pale-skinned dwarf dam repelled any oncoming guilt by remembering his prideful words…which meant remembering every time she had ever run into him.

The healing wings were across the mountain from the forges, so the long journey afforded Canna enough time to reflect on her time in Erebor. She had arrived, annoyed the king, befriended the heirs, rekindled her friendship with Balin and Dwalin, annoyed the king, lost her way, found the royal chambers, annoyed the king, pushed her trainees for the sake of respect, annoyed the king, relished in the rare chance to read a book, _probably_ annoyed the king, saved a child, injured herself, and _surely _annoyed the king.

_Thus far, a fruitful trip._

Still, someone like her had been rescued by the lord of the mountain.

Unbeknownst to Canna as she remained deep in thought, many passing dwarves stopped in their tracks to observe her. Sitting in a net, being carried by two young dwarves, she appeared as a dwarf queen of times long gone, ethereal and somehow so distant from all around her.

"Oy, I saw her sitting at the king's table!"

"Is she nobility, traveled from the Blue Mountain?"

"Nay, probably the Iron Hills, if anywhere."

"In all me years, never seen a dam like her."

"Is she even a dwarf?"

"If she was sitting with the king, mayhap our lord is courting her?"

"I wouldn't be surprised!"

In Erebor, rumors were faster than ravens.

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><p>When Fili and Kili heard of the accident, they rushed to the healing wing as soon as their duties were fulfilled.<p>

They burst through the doors and were immediately forced to leap to the side as a golden plate was thrown in their direction.

When they raised their heads, they saw Canna sitting up on her cot, glaring daggers at her healer, Girin.

"I told you not to touch me!" she hissed. The elderly dwarf remained perfectly calm.

"Your arms are unusable until I move your shoulders to their correct position. You can continue to kick plates and food away, and I will freely admit that you have good aim; but you cannot do so forever. There is no alternative. If you are truly a warrior, as your armor suggests, you know this."

"'Tis nothing I cannot do myself!" the maiden insisted vehemently.

Girin was unmoved. "Even if you could move one of your arms, at the cost of severe pain, you cannot set your own shoulder. I would think one such as you would know this. Do not take the stubbornness of dwarves to new heights when it concerns your health, my lady."

A sheepish Fili and Kili intervened before Canna could throw anything else at her healer.

"Girin," Fili greeted.

"My lord" and a bow was his reply. "Are you in need of my services?"

"Nay, we're just here to visit our new friend." The golden-haired dwarf smiled at Canna. "Such news travels fast in this mountain. How are you?"

Canna had relaxed slightly upon their intervention, but still kept her glaring eyes on Girin. "I am just fine, as I have tried to explain for Mahal knows how long!"

With her focus on the healer, she missed the silent exchange the two brothers had. Kili and Fili came to stand on either side of her cot. "I meant to ask earlier," Kili said, "but you said you came from Beorn's territory? How do you know him? He despises dwarves."

The sudden change of subject was enough to distract Canna. She smiled. "I came across him when –"

Without warning, each brother grabbed one of her shoulders and pushed her arm back into its place. The scream she gave encompassed the entire wing before she muffled it. At quickly as it happened, it was over. Canna panted to catch her breath from the sudden pain.

"I – I – you little orcs!"

Kili and Fili laughed even as they went to one knee in front of her. "Forgive us. We only meant well," Kili offered.

"'Meant well' my sword! Mahal…where are my swords! Bring them to me! I'm going to pin you to these walls!"

Surprised to see the poised dwarf dam in such a state, the brothers laughingly leaped away from her.

"You know, it is rather dangerous to threaten the heir to the throne," Fili mentioned with a grin.

Canna replied by grabbing a small eating knife from the bed table and throwing it in his direction. It embedded itself in the wall, inches from Fili's head.

"I don't care if you are the heir, the king, or Mahal himself! I won't forget this!"

Apparently, the unyielding nature of dwarves extended to – nay, was stronger in – the females. Kili sent a small prayer of thanks that he was betrothed to an elf. "Anyways," he said conversationally, "how do you know Beorn, hater of dwarves?"

Canna knew well that he was attempting to distract her, but she allowed it with a sigh. "When I was younger, I stumbled into him. He was in his bear form at the time. I'm sure he would have killed be, but he later told me that he was impressed with how a young maiden would bravely fight a battle she knew she would not win. I suspect he was more amused than anything. He tolerates my presence. And as for him hating dwarves…" Canna's eyes narrowed at the younger dwarves in reproach. "You should not speak so of him. Remember that it was he that came to your aid in the war, and carried your king to the mountain when he would have died. Your king owes Beorn his life. Do not speak of him so."

Fili and Kili bowed their heads. Speaking with Canna often led to them feeling off-balance. Sometimes she was open and fun-loving; other times she was somber and wise.

"Forgive us, we spoke wrongly," Fili acknowledged. "How are your arms? Judging from that knife you threw at me, I expect they feel better."

Canna was unapologetic, but she grudgingly admitted that after the initial pain, her arms felt much better.

With that she turned to Girin, who had been temporarily forgotten. He was watching her with a strange look on his face.

"I pronounce myself healed. Thank you for your aid; I shall leave now." Canna rose off the cot, gave one of her small sarcastic bows to Girin, and stalked out of the wing after grabbing her effects. She could feel the many cuts and bruises that remained on her body – when one took such a fall, they could not be avoided – but they were much easier to ignore.

Fili and Kili chose not to follow her, what with her promise of retribution still in their minds.

Canna was no more than a hundred feet out of the healing wing when she ran into Thorin and Balin, as well as the father of the child she had rescued.

Thorin stared at her but did not say anything, so Balin spoke first. "Lassie, why are you not in the healing wing?"

"Because I'm healed," Canna declared. "And I am hungry, and I believe it is almost time for dinner. Let's eat."

She made to pass them, but Balin stopped her. "Are you truly healed?"

"Yes." To demonstrate, she grabbed one of her twin swords and performed some quick and fluid moves before sheathing it.

Balin sighed and smiled fondly. "Darun here explained to us what happened, but I would like to hear it from you just once, if you will."

Canna sighed. "As you wish. Darun approached me on my way to the kitchens. I recognized him as one of the dwarves I had trained this morning. I met his son. He had questions about armor and weaponry. We were walking to the forges. His son was playing with his toy and running around. I saw him going near the edge of the road. I reached him as he was about to fall. Darun also reached to grab him, but he grabbed his son's arm and pulled. I lost balance, let go, and fell. Let's eat."

Darun fell to his knees in front of the black-haired maiden. "I owe you my son's life, Captain. If you _ever_ are in need, I will aid you. And – and forgive me, once again, for my lack of respect this morning. I'll tell the other lads too; it won't happen again, Captain."

Ignoring the urge to fidget in discomfort, Canna laughed and gestured for the dwarf to stand. "Please just call me Canna. I will not be here for long, after all. Let's eat."

Balin and Darun laughed, but Thorin's face remained expressionless.

"How long will you stay in Erebor, exactly?" the king enquired.

"I am not sure. Three months, no more than a year, I am sure. Do not worry, King; I will do my best to remain out of your sight." Leaving the men, Canna struck a path to the dining hall.

Darun watched her curiously. "Does she not know that the hall is in the other direction?"

Balin smiled. "Ever was she directionally challenged."

Even as he spoke, the old dwarf could still make out Thorin's words.

"Remain out of my sight…that is not my wish."

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><p><strong>Thank you for all the reviews! On that note, I'm declaring <strong>**rainv**** my favorite fan, for the frequent reviews that always motivate me to write more. You're the best!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

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><p>Did he truly wish her out of his presence?<p>

Balin and Darun were carrying a conversation beside him, but Thorin was lost in his own thoughts.

Canna was outspoken, unfeminine, and played on the edge of disrespectful.

Canna was ethereally beautiful, poised in many instances, skilled with weapons, and courageous.

Canna was untraditional. Canna was new. Canna was dangerous.

_And occupying far too much of my time for one dwarf dam_. He was Thorin Oakenshield, lord of Erebor, killer of Azhog the Defiler. His head was meant to filled with noble thoughts of his people, of his kingdom. Not of a dwarf dam who held no relation to him.

_But_, Thorin reasoned, _it was not his fault._ After all, in the two days she had been at Erebor, she had come in contact with him constantly. Once she stopped causing so much commotion, she would not longer be in his mind either.

_Out of sight, out of mind_.

For a week, Canna did generally keep out of Thorin's sight. An influx of newcomers and reparations did not allow the king time to observe her training, but Dwalin reported that it was going well. Upon gaining the respect of her subordinates, Canna had quickly began to shape them into able warriors. Darun's retelling of how she saved his son at her own risk softened all their hearts. And as soon as the training periods were over, Canna transformed from a stern and commanding captain to an outgoing maiden. She sat with her men during meals the entire week; seated at the other end of the hall, Thorin watched her laugh, chatter, and make drunken bets with those of low rank in his mountain.

No matter where she sat, she drew attention. Thorin began to suspect that even had she looked like any average dwarf maiden, she would do so.

Fili and Kili were becoming closer with her as each day passed. Although Canna was certainly older than the two, their youthful spirits coincided. Thorin secretly worried that the quest and subsequent war had traumatized his beloved nephews. If it had, Canna's friendship appeared to reduce some of their burden; he found them smiling and laughing frequently after time in her presence.

Thorin found himself increasingly frustrated by his ambivalence to Canna. As a king, he had to be able to read people, to discern their goodness, their motives, their minds.

He needed to speak with someone. And of course, who better to speak with than his royal advisor, Balin?

After another dinner of watching Canna hold the attention of those around her with some story, Thorin asked Balin to accompany him to his own quarters.

Once inside and comfortable, Thorin began. "Forgive me, my old friend, for bringing you all the way here. But I have certain concerns that I must address."

Balin leaned forward in alarm. "What is it, Thorin?"

"Your friend, Canna. Is she a threat?"

Balin reared back in his seat. "Thorin! What has come over you; this is not like you! She is a dwarf dam, not some goblin mercenary! Is…is it the dragon sickness? Thorin, has it come over you again?"

Thorin felt like he had been struck with a poisoned spear. "No! Never, _never_ again! It is not…'tis not _that_."

Balin remained suspicious. "Then what? Canna has not made any commotion for a week. Indeed, she has quite admirably avoided you, I believe. What's that lass done to you?"

"I cannot read her." Thorin felt highly uncomfortable speaking of this, and moved around in his soft armchair. "As dwarves, we do not stray from what we hold dear, from our traditions. She casts them all off as nothing."

"Casts what off?"

"Anything dwarf-like."

Balin silently chuckled. "Really? I always thought she was rather _too_ dwarf-like at times. But really, Thorin, with all your responsibilities and burdens, I am surprised that you seem more concerned about Canna, of all things."

Thorin remained silent, so Balin began to formulate his own ideas. "Thorin…is it that you view Canna in a…in another light?"

Thorin was no fool; he knew what Balin was asking. He immediately made to yell "No!" However, Thorin was nothing if not honest, and so he paused.

"Perhaps speaking your thoughts out loud will help you sort through them," Balin offered kindly.

Thorin nodded with a sigh; he trusted Balin implicitly; he felt no fear, only embarrassment, in letting the old dwarf be privy to his inner thoughts.

"She is beautiful, in a very different manner…I know my mother was considered a beautiful dwarf dam, but Canna is so unlike her. Ay, I acknowledge that I find her…more than lovely. Perhaps that is all?"

Baliln's brow furrowed. "You believe that you merely desire her physically?"

Thorin flushed. As heir to the throne and an honorable dwarf, he had never indulged in such pleasures prior to Erebor's fall. And with his frantic workload as king, he had no time to even think of such matters.

Perhaps that was it; he needed an outlet from the burden of being king, and he saw one in Canna.

Thorin repelled the thought even as it snuck into his mind. He was an honorable dwarf, not some lowlife without honor, dignity, or morals. "Perhaps I do…desire her, but I do not know if that is all."

Balin hid a smile. "I have known you since you were born, Thorin. I know your habits, your likes and dislikes, your strengths, your weaknesses. I can understand why you are drawn to Canna. Indeed, I would encourage it. You are far too stubborn, Thorin, even for a dwarf. Without realizing it, those you value most are those that have the strength of will to stand up to you."

"Yes, yes, but this is not the time for such things." Thorin got up and began pacing the spacious room in exasperation. "In such a perilous time for Erebor, I have no time for mere dalliances. If I am to tie myself to any maiden, it must be with the intention of making her queen of the mountain."

"And?"

"Clearly that cannot be Canna."

"And why not?" Balin also stood, albeit more slowly. "Have you forgotten Dain's words so quickly? These are troubled times for Middle-Earth, Thorin. The remaining dwarven realms must and _will_ come together if we are to protect our race. You no longer need to choose your queen for the sake of building relations between realms, as your ancestors have had to. You must focus on a queen who will help _you_; one who can relieve you of some of your burdens. Do not think that I do not notice the darkness under your eyes. At any rate," he said with a shake of his head, "now is not the time for such thoughts. I would advise you to first befriend Canna, before you entertain thoughts of queens and desires, my friend. At the moment, I do not believe Canna likes you very much."

Thorin laughed wearily. "Ay, so I would imagine."

Balin thought for a moment, and then spoke again. "Are you aware of the rumors that you are betrothed to Canna?"

Thorin promptly landed back in his chair. "What?"

"Ay, the last week I have heard much talk; we dwarves are not known for holding our tongues, after all. Seeing her sit with us for meals the first few days, and with you rescuing her when she fell and watching her during her first training exercise, I am not surprised to hear such things. Keep that in mind."

"Ay."

"Of course, with Canna sitting with the trainees for meals now, our people now believe that you have done something to anger your betrothed." Balin's blue eyes twinkled with merriment.

Thorin rolled his eyes. "They wouldn't be wrong."

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><p>The next day, Thorin was determined to witness Canna train the troops. It would mean moving earlier appointments to noon, and he would have to miss the midday meal, but he was not one to dally on deciding a course of action. The king needed to decide whether or not he would pursue his interest in the visiting dwarf maiden, and he needed to decide soon.<p>

He made sure to stand in a corner of the arena where he could not be seen, and he was pleased with what he saw. Not only were the dwarves under Canna's guidance progressing in their skills, but with her long black braid flinging from side-to-side and a thin sheen of sweat on her brow, Thorin's focus was on the trainer more than the trainees.

The men were stopping for their midday meal when Thorin approached them. "Well done, men. I am pleased with your progress." They immediately formed a rank at the sight of them. Thorin smiled in approval. "You will be worthy protectors of Erebor. Please, go the hall and enjoy a fine meal. I would wish to speak with your captain for a moment."

Canna waited until they had all left the arena before facing the king. Thorin waited for her to speak, but for the first time, she seemed to be holding her tongue.

"You are training them well," he finally said.

Canna looked surprised before a wide smile lit her face. Thorin gulped.

"They're good lads; they'll be good soldiers, in time."

Thorin grunted. "Are you really so old that you view them as 'lads'?"

"Ay, I'm 133," she replied unabashedly. Being far longer lived than Men, dwarves were not as secretive about their ages. "And the oldest amongst them is not eighty-five."

"I see…I am 147." Thorin did not know what made him add that last part, and form the looks of it neither did Canna.

"Well…that is good."

"Yes."

The inanity of the conversation threatened to envelope them both. Thorin was surprised that Canna did not just walk away, as she would have done previously. It seemed that a week away from him and tamed her.

It was an unnerving thought.

Thorin tried again. "Your wounds have healed fully?"

"Ay."

"Good."

Canna looked like she wanted to laugh at him now. Thorin wished she would, so that the suffocating silence would end.

"I commissioned railings…for those passages."

This peaked the dwarf maiden's interest. "You – you really listened to me?"

"In light of the accident, how could I not?" He gave her a small smile. "It was something I should have thought of myself. No one would have gotten hurt."

Canna's head tilted slightly to one side; Thorin found it endearing.

"Is there someone behind you with a knife in your back, forcing you to be polite to me?"

She was no longer endearing. She was infuriating.

"As far as I am concerned, maiden, ever have I extended courtesy to you. It is not my fault if you cannot accept it gracefully."

The fire was back in her amber eyes. "If you insist. I actually love to accept courtesy, when it _is_ offered to me. Perhaps you have another dam in mind. If so, I would ask that you go and offend her, King! I told you before: do not insult me. I will make you regret it."

Oh, how he was regretting this entire conversation! When had it gone wrong?

_As soon as she found her tongue again_.

A change of plans were in order. First, Thorin would defeat her in this battle of wits and tempers. Once he defeated her at her own game, _then_ he would decide whether or not she was worthy of any of his affection.

_I will have war_.

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><p><strong>Holy guacamole, the reviews I got for that last chapter were so awesome! They motivated me so much I've done my best to make this chapter a little extra long. I love you guys for taking the time to let me know what you think! <strong>

**P.S. QUESTION: If and how did people in the medieval ages keep their teeth clean? I doubt they had dentists at the time. Sorry, I was just wondering if anyone had any ideas. Thanks a bunch!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

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><p>In hindsight, Canna had to admit that her latest bout with the king had been her fault. As unbelievable as she found it to be, he <em>had<em> been sincerely polite to her.

Canna had spent a great portion of her life relatively alone. Being in greater society and learning when to hold her tongue were rare occurrences.

She should apologize. She did not want to, but the guilt had been growing within her as the hours passed. When she ended training for the day, she was filled with purpose.

"Sorry lads, but I won't be sitting with you tonight," she informed her men. "I shall see you tomorrow. Good work."

When dinner arrived, Canna approached Balin. "May I sit with you tonight? There is…there is something I need to tell the king."

The elderly dwarf smiled kindly at her. "My dear lass, you are always welcome. You are, after all, my guest. Come, sit with me."

Canna felt a glow of affection for her old friend. Never had she heard him speak unkindly or unfairly to anyone, herself included. It was a wonderful gift, one she envied at times.

The king raised an eyebrow at her presence, but otherwise said nothing. Fili, Kili, and Dwalin, however, were thrilled.

"Oy, lassie, how goes your training?" Dwalin asked.

"It goes well. They are progressing quickly; they're all good lads. But Dwalin, how many have joined your army now?

"Many of our newcomers are skilled, so we already have a sizeable number. Alas, in these dark time we need as many fighters as we can train."

Canna nodded in agreement but said no more. Balin noticed her subdued demeanor and, wanting to give her and Thorin a chance to speak, engaged the others in conversation about preparations for the arrival of Dis, Thorin's sister and Fili and Kili's mother.

Knowing this was her chance, Canna took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before turning to the king. She was shocked to find his gaze already on her, pinning her down.

She almost lost her nerve, but shook her head. _You are a dwarf! You do not feel fear!_

Just as Canna was ready to speak, the king cut her off. "Did you sit here to spew more accusations at me?"

Embarrassment caused a flush to enter Canna's pale cheeks. She lowered her gaze. "I sat here to apologize…to you. Forgive me."

She dared not look up at the king's face. What would she see?

She had no way of knowing that Thorin felt a hint of guilt for his scathing words. Perhaps it had been deserved, but as king, he should have known to hold his tongue, even if she could not.

And her sad demeanor and soft words only made him feel worse. He did not like her in this state – where was the bold maiden that met his eye and spoke her mind without a thought?

Without knowing how to reply to this sudden turn of events, both dwarves remained silent as the conversation flowed around them.

Canna barely picked at her steaming food, but when the drinks were passed around, she grabbed her mug greedily and gulped the mead down.

Balin glanced at her before turning his questioning gaze at Thorin. He was watching Canna intently.

Not many were aware that Canna _loved_ to drink. She refrained from doing so often because of its heady effect on her, but like many dwarves, she dearly loved a fine malt beer.

And at the moment, she would rather drink her troubles away than remain consciously aware of the tension between her and the king of the mountain.

Three times her mug was refilled to the brim. She was on her way to asking for another refill when Dwalin reached forward and grabbed her mug away. Canna yelled her outrage and clumsily made to retrieve it.

"I think you've had enough, lass," Dwalin spoke steadily, meeting her hazy gaze.

Canna shook her head fervently. "It's not enough! It's never enough." Her plaintive remarks were ignored.

Balin sighed and gently took one of the maiden's arms. "Come, my dear. I think you've had a long day."

Canna sluggishly nodded and stood to her feet.

* * *

><p>Thorin's eyes remained on the seat that Canna had occupied mere moments ago. He was beginning to realize something about her – she was an extreme. From not drinking at all to drinking heavily, and avoiding him and then fighting him, and throwing herself into danger to save a child, she was all extremes.<p>

It was neither wise nor justified.

But he rather enjoyed it.

* * *

><p>Balin retained his hold on Canna's arm as they trekked to her quarters. The woman occasionally stumbled and was constantly murmuring under her breath, but did not strike up a conversation.<p>

"Canna, perhaps you won't remember this on the morrow, but still, I must say it. Thorin is my king. I have known him since he was a wee lad, and the struggles he has gone through are severe indeed. He is under such burden, raising Erebor from the rubble. I have also known you since you were a tiny lass. Your struggles are not to be belittled, but I am asking you, not to burden my king further. His words may be poorly chosen, but his heart is good, his mind sound. I love you both dearly, and it is through this love that I tell you, to exercise some control. You are no longer alone in a lawless wilderness, and there are rules to such a life."

Canna stared at him blankly.

Balin sighed. "My dear child…come, let us get you to bed."

Canna dumbly nodded her head and followed.

* * *

><p>Dawn found the trainees greeting a <em>very<em> irascible Canna. The day's training was exhausting, and by the end everyone, the captain included, was aching.

"We shall end an hour early today. You may go."

The grateful young dwarves fled the arena as soon as they could. Canna chuckled bitterly and, after cleaning her weapons, marched to her rooms. She was about to head out to the public baths when a messenger stopped her with a written note. Canna pulled it out and read it.

A great feast is being held to celebrate the return of Dis, daughter of Thrain, sister of King Thorin, to the realm of Erebor. Wear your finest dress to the feast.

The letter was not signed.

Canna growled; the feast had been planned for the last several days, but she had not planned on dressing for it. In hindsight, she should have known better.

Suddenly, she felt like having a drink.

* * *

><p>The reunion between Thorin and his sister was a pleasant one. His sister shared his dark hair and fair height, but where his eyes were a steely grey, hers were dark and brown.<p>

Their temperaments were also similar, as was evident minutes after their reunion.

"Brother, this is ridiculous! I have no need for a feast! This is such a busy time, we cannot afford such frivolities. You should know better!

"I know better than you!" he bellowed. "Do not argue with me on this, Dis. Your quarters are ready, now rest before the feast. Go!"

"You will not tell me when to go, Thorin! Remember who is older! I will see you soon." With a sweep of her robes, she stalked out of the Hall of Kings.

Thorin ran a hand over his face; he dearly loved his sister, but there were times when he wanted to lock her in a dungeon.

He had not slept well; images of Canna's subdued face from dinner kept running through his mind. He wondered if she had received his note. Would she obey? Would she even show? It was required that all dwarves in Erebor, regardless of rank, come to the celebration. Thorin knew that this feast was needed; his people needed to be reminded that their lives would not be limited to hard work and labor. The rebuilding of the city was progressing well; the citizens deserved a fine reward for their toils.

The hall was ready; every table was piled high with delicious foods; kegs filled to the brim with mead lined the walls, and small jewels and gold dust were strewn over everything, including the food itself. The wealth of Erebor was meant to be spread to all its people.

Thorin himself was dressed in a tunic of dark navy, with black breeches, black boots, and a velvet robe of blue and gold. He had opted not to wear his crown, and wore a simple gold circlet instead.

All thirteen of the dwarves that formed the original company entered the hall together, dressed elegantly. The cheers that rose at their entrance were deafening. On Thorin's arm was his sister, Lady Dis, dressed in a long-flowing dress of grey. Behind them walked her sons, Fili and Kili, who were smiling from ear to ear.

The feast was loud and merry, but Thorin could not see Canna anywhere. A sliver of disappointment coursed through him. Balin saw his wandering gaze and inwardly smiled, before sending a look to Dwalin. The large muscular dwarf grinned and excused himself from the table before leaving the hall.

Dis was glowing with the joy of returning to her home. She laughed often and could be seen speaking in a low voice with her brother and sons.

At length, Dwalin returned to the table, but this time he brought someone with him. Thorin turned to question Dwalin and froze, speechless.

Canna's hair was not in its usual braid. Instead, it flowed freely down her back, past her hips. A few small and intricate braids held the hair from her face. Her dress was crimson and cut in the fashion of most dwarven dresses, hugging her chest and loose around her legs. She wore no jewelry, which was exceedingly strange for any dwarf dam, but her amber eyes were bright and illuminated by the torchlight, and Thorin thought her exceedingly beautiful.

The company too, seemed enamoured. Bifur was quick to laugh. "Oy, Dwalin, what magic did you weave to get a lass like her on your arm?"

Everyone laughed, and only when Canna's shoulders relaxed slightly did Thorin note how tense she had been upon entering.

Canna ate and laughed with the company, but Thorin could still see the taughtness of her arms, the wariness in her eyes and they flicked back and forth. She had been introduced to Dis, who immediately found her fascinating. Upon discovering that she had been requested by Balin to train Erebor's troops, she instantly took a liking to this strange maiden.

"I learned how to wield a sword well enough, and even shoot a crossbow, but to survive by myself; I do not know if I could have done so!"

Canna smiled. "I am no expert of a crossbow. I wield dual swords, and I suppose I could wield a bow well enough, but nothing fancy."

"But dear, do you not own any finery? This is a dwarven feast, after all!"

"Ay, that it is. But I do not carry jewels or gold with me on my travels, lest I want to have every beggar and greedy eye attacking me. It is safer to carry nothing than to carry everything."

Thorin did not know if he should be pleased or worried that his sister enjoyed Canna's presence.

At length, the tables were pushed aside and the dancing began. Canna danced first with Balin, then Dwalin, and then Fili, Kili, Bifur, Bombur, Oin, and the thirty men under her temporary command.

Thorin danced with his sister before she was swept away by her merry sons. After that, he sat in his high chair and watched Canna. She clearly was not an avid dancer, but she was laughing and her glossy hair was catching the torchlight as many a dwarf swung her around.

Knowing full well that rumors would only spread further should he choose to dance with her and no one else, Thorin first danced with others, from maids to daughters and sisters of nobledwarves. Some were very beautiful in the classic way of dwarves, but none were as stimulating as Canna. In fact, most seemed intimidated by him.

It was with much anticipation on his part that Thorin, King Under the Mountain, asked Canna for one dance.

The laughter died from her eyes as he stood, waiting for her answer.

"I – I am not a very good dancer. I would recommend otherwise."

"I insist."

"Well, that solves everything, does it not?" A little of the light returned to her eyes, and she placed her white hand in his. Thorin felt the callousness in what should have been soft skin, felt the roughness which comes from being a warrior, and he felt a strange thrill.

As promised, she was as clumsy in dancing as she was graceful in sparring. Several times did she step on his boots, and Thorin quickly noted that underneath her elegant dress, she was wearing her usual, worn black boots. It made him smile.

Canna seemed uncomfortable in his arms, though.

"Are you not enjoying the feast?"

"I am, I am! Your sister is…very different from what I expected."

"Oh? What did you expect?"

"Are you certain you wish to hear my answer?"

"Ay, I am."

Canna still looked uncertain, but she continued nonetheless. "I expected her to be the woman you accuse me of not being. Soft-spoken, quiet, neither a warrior nor outspoken. She is none of those."

"Ay, if only I had raised her myself. But alas, she was born before me."

Canna let out a surprised bubble of laughter.

Despite his grim appearance, Thorin was smiling inside. She had laughed, at _his_ words, in _his_ arms.

_Progress_.

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><p><strong>The reviews I got for the last chapter blew me away! You guys get more awesome every time, if that's even possible!<strong>

**And thanks for those of you who answered my very weird and random question! I hope you guys like this chapter! It's the longest one so far. Let me know what you think. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

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><p>All who attended considered the celebration a success. It was obvious that their king wished to spread the wealth of Erebor to all his people, and praise for Thorin was sung loudly through the halls for days.<p>

In the comfort of his own quarters, Thorin too admitted that the feast had been splendid. The company had been pleasant, his people happy, and he had danced with Canna.

His thoughts strayed to his conversation with her. It was true that, despite their different stations, Canna and his sister shared many traits. Was that why he was drawn to this strange maiden?

_No_. Despite their similarities, they were still different. Whereas Dis could be bold and a little haughty due to her rank, Canna was not royalty.

Or was she?

With a jolt, Thorin realized that, apart from what he had heard from Balin, Fili, Kili, and Canna herself, he knew very little about her.

Who are her parents? How does Balin know them? Where was she born? Why does she travel Middle-earth rather than stay at home with her mother and father?

So many unanswered questions…

Early the next morning, Thorin checked to assure himself that Dis' chambers were to her liking, and then began another day filled with the overseeing of Erebor's reconstruction, the influx of dwarves to the mountain, and the sending of gold to Dale for the citizens of Laketown.

Fili attended to all the most important duties with Thorin; the king was determined to make his nephew ready for the throne should he perish at any time.

Before the midday meal, Oin came to see him and requested that he be appointed to assist in the healing wing. Thorin had asked him to first aid in other areas of Erebor, but with reconstruction well on its way, he quickly granted his apothecary friend the position he so wished for.

His sister's presence both impeded and relieved his schedule; on one hand, he now had to consider her safety and comfort every day; however, she had surprised him by standing at his side to welcome the incoming dwarves to Erebor. Afterwards, she had offered to perform the duty herself, thereby freeing him from the duty.

With these frantic days, dinner always found him in a bad mood.

Canna was sitting with her men again, far from him. This did not aid his mood, particularly when he had so many questions to ask her. He knew Balin well enough to be sure that it was futile to ask him anything concerning Canna. The elderly dwarf would just shake his head and murmur something like, "These tales are not mine to tell."

And he would be right.

For one week, Thorin planned. Even when Canna came and sat by Balin for dinner, he did nothing more than greet her cordially – her apology and the feast had made them a little more pleasant to each other.

Finally, a week later, he was ready. He _would_ get the answers he so sought, and he would get them from Canna herself.

* * *

><p>When a messenger Arrived with another not for Canna, as her day of training ended, Canna was most suspicious.<p>

The same hand wrote this note, she could tell. She read the following:

The king requests your presence in the library, following dinner. 

Do not be tardy.

As angry as the last line made her, Canna was more curious than anything. She had not done anything to offend the king this last week; not since the celebration. Indeed, relations between her and Thorin Oakenshield were improved since that night.

It was possible he wished to discuss the progress her troops had made. This being the only reason Canna could think of, she decided to make nothing more of it, and after freshening up, sat at dinner with her men as usual.

After eating heartily, she made her way to the library with slow steps.

As she expected, the large room was empty except for the king himself. He sat in one of the chairs, arms crossed, watching her.

Canna walked up to him and dropped the note in his lap. "Even your letters are insulting." Her voice did not quite contain the venom it would have had a week ago.

"My apologizes." His voice contained no anger, but a hint of a smile instead. "Please be seated."

After a moment's hesitation, Canna chose a seat across from the king. When he did not speak, she voiced her own thoughts. "Why am I here?"

"To answer my questions."

"Questions? Concerning what?"

"You."

"What?!"

Thorin grinned at her incredulity. "As the guest of my chief royal advisor, it will be to both our benefits – and Balin's relief – if we can find some common ground on which to…not be adversaries."

The carefully chosen words made Canna laugh outright. "Spoken like royalty," she guffawed. Once she had controlled herself, she nodded. "So, you wish to ask me questions."

"Ay."

"About me."

"Ay. If I ask too bold a question, tell me so."

"Fear not; I have nothing to hide." With that, Canna made herself more comfortable in her seat and waited.

Thorin was startled; he had expected her to argue, or to refuse to reveal personal information like this. Although, now that he recalled, she had ever been open to asking whatever questions Fili and Kili threw at her.

Her openness pleased him, and so he began.

"Where were you born?"

"On land."

The king grunted in irritation.

Canna laughed. "A small dwarfish fishing village."

"Where is this village?"

"On the outskirts of King Dain's territory, along the shores."

"Tell me about this village."

"What do you wish to know?"

"Everything."

"Oh." Canna took a moment to collect her thoughts. "There were a number of fishing villages like mine, all along the shore of Dain's land. We provided fish to the inner cities in return for whatever goods we needed. It was a simple life, but a good one. My village in particular was also regarded for its strategic location; the enemy would need to first attack us if they wanted to pass to the other villages. Most of the menfolk were also able warriors, so the thought did not plague us."

"Were you attacked often?"

"No, perhaps once a year, if I remember. And no more than a few mindless orcs that lost their way. It was a fairly peaceful life."

"I see."

Canna waited. "Is that all?"

"No!" There was so much he wanted to ask her…"Tell me about your parents?"

Canna started. "What do you wish to know?"

"Everything."

"I see…My mother is considered a great beauty. She has long black hair, beautiful, really. And her skin is as white as the sea foam, and she's more slender than most dwarf dams. People say I look so much like her." The last line was said thoughtfully, with no vanity whatsoever. "Of course, her eyes are brown. My eyes are my father's. He is, well…he reminds me much of Dwalin, I suppose – fair height, burly, strong, with a booming voice. He is red-bearded, though. A good fisherman, and a skilled warrior. He could wield sword and axe."

It was clear that Canna held much affection for her parents. Thorin smiled at the warmth in her voice as she spoke of them.

"Where are they now?"

"Oh, they are dead," she responded casually.

"WHAT?"

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><p><strong>Sorry this chapter is a bit short! Thank you so so so much for the reviews! <strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

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><p>"All this time, they've been dead?"<p>

Canna appeared unperturbed, if a little confused. "Yes, of course they have."

"Then how is it that neither you nor Balin ever mentioned it?"

"You never asked." Canna smiled cheekily.

Thorin would have a talk with Balin soon, but right now another question was burning in his mind. "How did they die?"

"Orcs. And now, I must retire." The maiden made to get up, but Thorin raised an arm and stopped her.

"You have answered my questions truthfully and peacefully. Is there anything you wish to ask me?"

Canna thought for a moment. There was much she wanted to ask him. "I don't know where to start. Perhaps…what was the true purpose of asking me all these questions?"

"I wished to understand you better. It is not every day I meet a dwarf like you."

This was not the first time Canna had heard those words. "Yes yes, I am well aware of how others look at me."

Thorin wondered at her neutral tone. "And what about how I look at you?" He had meant to ask out of curiosity, but the way his voice had suddenly deepened even more and softened betrayed him.

The dwarf maiden gave him a startled look. Thorin waited tensely for her to speak, but when she finally did, it was only a quiet "Sleep well, King," before she scampered out of his quarters.

_What a fool I am_.

* * *

><p>Balin was summoned to the King's Room the next morning. This room sat adjacent to the Hall of Kings, and was where the king conducted most of his business or advisory meetings.<p>

Thorin quickly noted, with some bitterness, that his advisor did not appear surprised in the least to be summoned so early.

"What is it, Thorin?" the elderly dwarf inquired, once they were both comfortably seated.

"I suppose you are aware that I had a…meeting, with Canna," the king began gruffly.

Balin hid a smile. "Yes, I am."

"Why did you never mention that her mother and father are dead?"

"You never asked."

Thorin bristled, but made no argument. "So, when you spoke of this 'old friend' of yours…"

"Ay, he is dead. But that does not mean he is no longer my friend of old."

Really, there was no point in arguing with Balin. It made him invaluable as an advisor, but a bit annoying as a friend.

"She was not insulted, was she?" Balin asked.

"No. If anything, she was…very…"

"Open?" the advisor suggested.

"Ay."

"This surprises you?"

"Ay."

"Ah, you've grown cynical, Thorin. But she wasn't always like this."

Thorin perked up; he had not expected Balin to offer any insight into Canna. He leaned forward. "Continue."

Balin leaned back in his seat and thought back. "She used to be quite a wild thing, no manners or sense of breeding at all; very cheap with her words, and hated speaking of her past as much as you do, Thorin. She was quite an angry lass, always baring her teeth at some poor lad," he said with a fond chuckle. "She's changed far more than I would've thought; I suppose time works wonders. If you had met her before Erebor's fall, you'd surely have thrown her from the ramparts."

Thorin ignored his friend's merriness and absorbed this new information.

"There are times," he admitted to Balin, "that I wonder if she is _too_…perfect. Ay, I am well-aware that she is disrespectful and such, but at times…I suppose it appears as if a strength."

Balin laughed. "Ah, Thorin, you're only just beginning to know her, my friend. She has faults aplenty; she has just gotten better at hiding them. I wonder what has happened to bring about such change, but I am glad for it. I tell you, as long as I'd known her, she was as reckless as I ever met. Gave me a good scare, always, knowing she was out there by herself and as angry and wild as a beast. Only through Mahal's blessing did she survive, I'm sure."

"And now?"

"Now…she is hiding herself. She is holding herself close by the reins as long as she is under your mountain, Thorin, and I am glad for it."

Thorin silently debated whether or not _he_ was glad for it.

Balin continued, oblivious to his king's inner argument. "So believe me, Thorin, she has flaws aplenty. To hear you say that you believe she lacks flaws, shows flaws in your judgment."

Thorin did not acknowledge Balin, for he could not say what he was thinking.

_It is not that she is perfect. She is perfect _for me_._

* * *

><p>It was a few days letter when Dain's letter reached Erebor. It was an invitation – a request, really – that Thorin travel to the Iron Hills where meetings of the remaining dwarf lords were to be held. With Erebor once again under the command of the dwarves, new strategies could be made to repel the forces of darkness and protect their race. Knowing that Erebor was busy being rebuilt, Dain had graciously offered to host the meeting in his domain, provided that his cousin attends.<p>

For his part, Thorin was loath to leave his kingdom, despite reclaiming it months ago. But this was a crucial meeting, one that could cement Erebor's future.

Preparations were quickly made for the king's journey. Balin was to stay and rule Erebor in Thorin's stead, as would Fili. Kili, however, would accompany Thorin, along with Oin and Gloin. The rest of the company would remain in Erebor, since each now shouldered many responsibilities.

Dwalin greatly protested to being left behind, but Thorin insisted.

"You know as well as I do that I would feel far more reassured to have you at my side for this journey," the king reasoned with his friend of many years, "but you are the commander of our army; should evil threaten our kingdom, there are none I would trust to protect our home but you. Please, do this for me."

With a sigh, Dwalin nodded. "Ay, for my king."

If only that were the end of it.

"But I won't have my king traveling without adequate protection."

"But the road is not treacherous! There is no need for a great many dwarves to travel on this journey!" Thorin protested angrily.

Dwalin shook his head. "A few traders wish to take this opportunity to go there, as you know. If they should join your group, you will need protection. I will send Canna's rank with you. They have done well enough to put them out into the world, now. As you said, the journey should not be too dangerous. Canna will accompany you as well, to supervise them. All together, it will be thirty-five of you, plus whichever traders you allow to come with you."

And so it was that, a week later, Canna and her troupe were seen trudging alongside a cheerful Oin and Kili, a proud Gloin, four excited tradesmen, and a thoroughly disgruntled Thorin Oakenshield.

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><p><strong>I'm very sorry for the delayed update, guys! School restarted, so that involved a lot of traveling and stuff. I think we can expect these weekly updates from now on, although I'll try to make it quicker.<strong>

**I adored the reviews I got! Please let me know what you think! Things are gonna be more fast-paced in this story from now on. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

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><p>Thorin was angry. Not annoyed, or upset, or saddened, or mildly irritated. Angry.<p>

There was no particular reason for his being so. The traders, along with the assistants that scuttled around them, were a chatty bunch, but they were respectful and did not try to cause any discontent. His nephew, as well as Oin and Gloin, did everything they could to make the journey efficient and comfortable. The soldiers that encircled the entire group were quiet and determined when on the move, and good merry folks when camp was made.

Truly, Thorin could not place blame on any of the men, for they had done nothing wrong.

Which left the woman, Canna.

She had already befriended Kili, Oin, and Gloin, and certainly had the staunch support and hard-won respect of her soldiers. The traders were wary of her, but were respectful in their speech.

But she was different.

Thinking back, Thorin remembered Balin saying something about her hiding her true personality while in Erebor. It seemed he was right.

The changes were subtle. She was quieter, for one, and even at night when they sat to relax, her eyes surveyed her surroundings as she chuckled at a comrade's joke. She was constantly aware of their environment, and not so quick to laugh.

However, her smiles were a little more genuine, her eyes a little softer, her expressions a little more pronounced.

She was far more trouble than she was worth, Thorin decided. Why could she not be simple-minded, without so many layers?

"Do you make good money, selling onions?" Thorin heard Canna ask one of the traders.

His eyes widened. _Onion…she was like an onion. With many layers, and an ability to bring on large headaches in close proximity_.

He had never had such an absurd thought before…truly, she was driving him to insanity.

The road they were taking to the Iron Hills was not particularly treacherous, although the growing evil of Middle-Earth put that into question. The simplest path between the two dwarf realms was well-trodden with the recent bustle of dwarves between the reclaimed mountain and the green hills.

But this was not the road Thorin's company would take; it was too well-known and busy for a king to be traveling; if evil was lurking, they would more than likely be watching that busy path.

The road they were on now was an older and slightly longer one, but it did a well enough job of avoiding both attention and obstacles that would make the journey arduous. The traders in particular, who traveled with their wagons laden with materials, were thankful for this.

Thorin prayed to Mahal that at least this journey would pass without incident. His last journey had been anything but.

* * *

><p>It was not until they neared the woods that Canna, Thorin, Gloin, and Kili sensed it. The most seasoned warriors of the group, they immediately slowed the pace. Canna quietly alerted her troops and ordered them to form a tighter circle around the traders. Thorin, Gloin, Kili, and Canna surrounded the soldiers atop their horses. Oin remained inside the circle, protecting the traders.<p>

No one spoke as they continued on their journey. Canna's soldiers were nervous and jumped at any sound, and Canna felt like a shepherd, circling her herd.

Whatever presence they felt did not show itself. Kili and the soldiers, being young and thus keener-eyed, kept their eyes trained on their surroundings.

They had almost passed the woods when night fell. Thorin saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and barely yelled out a warning before the first arrow fell.

The first arrow embedded itself in one of the soldier's shoulder.

"Tarkin!" Canna exclaimed as she spurred her horse forward. Kili's arrow shot down the assailant, but soon many more arrows sped towards the dwarves, as well as armed orcs.

Canna was the first to reach them, slicing through the spawns of evil with her dual swords. With a mighty roar, Thorin was beside her, hacking through the horde atop his mount.

The traders remained where they were as all the soldiers mounted an attack on the orcs. However, only five of the thirty carried arrows or crossbows, and only Kili was experienced enough to accurately hit the orcs that hid amidst the trees.

This had to be a trap. The location gave every advantage to the orcs.

"Retreat!" Thorin yelled in Khazdul.

The wagons were already moving away. Amidst heavy fire Thorin and his company slowly moved away from the woods, the soldiers using their shields to protect themselves and each other. Canna was barking orders at her men when an arrow pierced her horse's neck. Without time to jump off, Canna went crashing to the ground with her mount. She rolled yards away from the dead horse, dazed.

Thorin did not remember a time when he had ridden so quickly on a horse.

"Go! I will follow!" he commanded Kili and Gloin.

"No, I will stay with you!" barked Kili.

"Do as I say! Lead the others!"

With a roar of frustration, Kili did as he was told and everyone picked up their pace.

Thorin leaped into the fray of approaching orcs with a fury he had not felt since the Battle of the Five Armies.

When he was close to Canna, he quickly jumped down and hoisted her onto his horse before leaping up behind her.

By some luck, no arrows hit his own mount, as Thorin fled the area with Canna.

They were almost at the bridge when the second group of orcs fell upon them.

"No!" Thorin yelled, digging his heels into his mount. They had to cross the bridge…it was their only way of crossing the river.

But the orcs were waiting. This was most certainly a trap.

Thorin just barely maneuvered his horse before an arrow pierced its hide. Dwarves were not known for their horsemanship, and at any other time he would have sent a silent prayer of thanks to his father and grandfather for his extensive riding lessons.

But now was not the time. His life, as well as that of the dwarf dam pressed against his chest, was in grave danger.

But it appeared that Canna had come out of her daze. Without warning, she ripped the horse's reins from Thorin's hands and turned the horse sharply towards the river.

"What are you doing?" the king bellowed, desperately grabbing the reins from her.

"We have to go into the river!" Canna exclaimed back, shrinking as arrows flew by their heads. "The river will carry us away! Your horse is tiring!"

_This is madness. She is madness_. But it was true that his horse was struggling to maintain this pace, and if his horse fell, they would have no choice anyways.

_I will regret this_. With one mighty tug, Thorin sent his mount flying into the river.

The force of the plunge yanked Canna and Thorin away from the horse and each other.

For what felt like eternity, Thorin felt the underwater currents yanking him as if he were a rag. Dwarves were not swimmers, and he was barely proficient.

And then a pair of arms encircled his waist. They attempted to push him upwards, and with the last of his strength, Thorin pumped his legs.

The cold air filled Thorin's lungs as he gasped, and then the currents pulled him under once more.

This time, Thorin looked at the person whose hand held his. With her braid swirling around like a serpent, Canna squeezed his hand and smiled. She smiled at him. Underwater.

If not for the absurdity of their situation, Thorin would have smiled back.

Retaining her hold on his hand and intertwining their fingers, Canna began pulled him forward. She appeared to be much more comfortable with the water than Thorin did, so he did as she wished him to.

The river's currents were too strong to resist, but Canna persevered. Thorin wondered why they did not stay near the surface, but when they did go up for a gulp of air, he realized why.

If they had stayed near the surface, the arrows would have killd them in no time.

The orcs still pursued them from the shores, although they were dwindling in number. Their shrieks prompted the dwarves to dive down once more, using the raging waters as protection.

How long they kept this up, Thorin did not know. But eventually, the river flowed too quickly for the orcs to keep up. Canna and Thorin were both beyond weary from fighting the currents.

It was the sight of hooves in the water that gave them their last strength. It appeared that, in pursuit of the dwarves, the orcs had neglected to pursue their horse as well. And horses were much stronger swimmers than dwarves.

With their last bits of strength, Canna and Thorin swam to the panicked horse and grabbed its reins. Without the threat of orcs, they were able to stay near the surface, gasping for air.

Canna caught Thorin's eye. "Just hold on!" she yelled over the bellow of the raging water.

Thorin nodded before closing his eyes, hoping against hope that his horse would carry them to safety.

* * *

><p>The feeling of rough dirty grating against her back was the best sensation Canna had felt in a long time. With a gasp, she pried her clenched fingers off of the horse's reins, her head crashing to the earth.<p>

How many times would she fell this day?

With a start, Canna remembered that she had not gotten here alone.

_King_.

In painstakingly slow movements, Canna managed to get onto all fours on the rough shore of the river.

Mere feet from her, lay Thorin Oakenshield.

Canna crawled – yes, crawled – to the dwarf till she was by his side. His eyes were closed, but he was clearly taking deep breaths.

"Oy, open your eyes," the maiden grunted, patting his cheek. "We are safe now. Open your eyes."

When the grey eyes, strangely soft, met hers, Canna could not stop herself from giving him a happy – albeit weary – smile.

"We are safe now," she repeated. She had no idea where they were, or how they would ever reach the Iron Hills, but still…

"We are safe."

* * *

><p><strong>For those of you who have been giving me regular feedback (y'all know who you are), I never thought you would still be with me after all this time! <strong>

**And the reviews I got, both from new and old friends, were so kind, you guys are really inspirational! Hence this chapter which I wasn't planning on working on until this weekend. **

**Hope you like it, let me know what you think! **


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

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><p>"We are safe."<p>

Although her voice was raspy, he had not heard a more beautiful sound. She continued to peer down at him, a few scratches on her face and eyes that mirrored his tiredness, but otherwise she appeared uninjured.

With great effort, Thorin managed to sit up straight. Canna was sitting on her haunches, watching him.

After a moment, she softly said, "You should thank your horse, you know."

Both dwarves looked to where the black horse had laid down, huffing mightily from the exertion.

Thorin looked back at Canna. Water was still dripping down her hair, her face, her leather garb.

"Are you injured?" he asked, because he had to be sure.

She shook her head. "I am not. Are you?"

"Nay."

"Good."

For some time they sat there, facing each other, each lost in their own thoughts. Thorin looked around. He was unfamiliar with this area, which seemed completely deserted.

"Our best chance," he began, "is to follow the river upstream. Eventually, we will find the path once again."

Canna nodded but frowned. "Those orcs were organized. They knew we were taking this path. Could they possibly have spies watching the mountain?"

"It is possible; evil has many eyes."

"Ay."

With shaky legs, Canna stumbled to her feet. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to rest, but she ignored them with gritted teeth and stiffly walked towards the tired horse. The king's packs were still tightly harnessed to its body.

"We both still have our weapons," Canna mused. After quickly sifting through the supplies the horse carried, she sighed. "Some clothes, enough food for no more than two or three days. You should have packed better."

Thorin glared at the dwarf dam. "I assumed that the thirty soldiers _you_ trained would sufficiently protect us from such situations."

Canna's own blazing gaze met his icy one. "Do not speak with such disrespect! They have done nothing wrong; they performed their duty as they were ordered to."

But in her heart, guilt pricked at her. _Have I failed them? Am I the one to blame? _

Yes, her heart told her, yes.

* * *

><p>Night fell rapidly as Canna and Thorin huddled near their horse for warmth and protection.<p>

Thorin regretted his harsh words, spoken in a moment of bitterness. His companion and been silent since then, and as he recovered his strength, he lost his ire.

"Forgive me," he murmured softly to the maiden that was pressed to his side.

After a minute, she slowly responded. "I owe you my thanks, for not leaving me."

Thorin looked at her, startled. And then he remembered that she was used to being alone, fending for herself. "I would never leave you." His words were heavy with seriousness.

Canna did not reply. Much of her hair had fallen out of her braid and provided a curtain that restricted him from seeing her face.

Thorin was beginning to doze when he felt the shoulder next to him shaking softly.

His hand hesitated before gently pushing the curtain of glossy hair towards her ear. As expected, she was crying softly.

"Canna? What is it?" he said urgently. Never had he imagined that this maiden, this bold shield maiden, would cry for anything.

"It is nothing," she spat. The sniffles that followed weakened the venom in her voice. "Leave me be."

"Tell me what ails you." Seeing that she had not lost all her stubbornness, Thorin's heart softened, as did his voice.

It seemed to have an effect on Canna, for after a few more sniffles she admitted, "I am crying for my horse."

Thorin's eyes flew open. Surely he must have heard incorrectly; after all, he was pretty certain there was still water in his ears. "What?"

"My horse." Sniffle. "No one died, except my horse." Sniffle. "I know it is foolish, and I am no horse dam." Sniffle. "But…oh, I don't know!"

Mentally floundering for something to say in response, Thorin said the first thing that came to mind. "You are the last dwarf I would expect to shed tears…especially over a horse."

The soft sniffles turned into furious amber eyes pointed at him. "I do not know when I gave the impression that I have no heart, King Under the Mountain, but I am not so beastly that I do not mourn the loss of any good life."

It was dark, and Thorin was weary, and come dawn, eh would have to begin a very long journey to the Iron Hills, while avoiding a large group of suspiciously cunning orcs.

So all he said in reply was a muttered, "You are a contradiction." With that he wrapped his arm around Canna's shoulders and pulled her closer to him.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

"We are alone in a strange land, and we are both cold. I am weary, and I suspect you are as well."

Canna grumbled but did not move away. If he had looked down, he would have seen her amber eyes glance up at his face before softening, a puzzled grin on her face.

"I am glad I did not leave you," he offered before his eyes drifted shut.

"So am I."

* * *

><p>Canna awoke to find her face pressed into long, thick black hair.<p>

She had fallen asleep against King Thorin Oakenshield. Mahal certainly had a sense of humor.

As carefully as the dwarf maiden could, she separated herself from Thorin and stood. Her movements woke the horse, which snorted and struggled to his feet, which knocked Thorin over. With a start, he awoke to find Canna laughing at him.

"Enough," he grumbled as he also stood. Dwarf, dwarf dam, and horse all took a few sips of water from the river.

They were each chewing on a biscuit when Thorin remembered something. "You…where did you learn to swim so well?" he growled, almost accusatorily.

Canna beamed. "Do you envy me?"

Thorin rolled his eyes and did not condescend her words with an answer.

"I was born in a fishing village," Canna continued good-naturedly. "Water was as much my home as land."

Thorin acknowledged the logic of her words before standing. He held out a hand to assist her, expecting her to refuse it. As usual, she threw him off his guard by placing her smaller hand in his own. Quickly he pulled her up, accidentally using more force than necessary. The dwarf maiden crashed into his body before stumbling back.

"If you wish to spar, just say so," she muttered in annoyance. Although their outer clothes had dried, the soft shirts they wore under their armor stickily clung to them.

Thorin cleared his throat. "We will have a long journey today, and it is best we are comfortable. I…you may borrow one of my shirts."

For a minute Canna just stared at him blankly, but then a curious thing happened. At first Thorin feared that a sickness had come upon her, as her pale white cheeks turned dark pink, but then realization hit him.

Canna, dwarfish shieldmaiden and traveler of Middle-Earth, was blushing.

Perhaps this journey was not a complete disaster.

* * *

><p>They were both a few meters apart and turned away from each other, but just the sound of ruffling clothing behind him was enough to make Thorin's blood grow hot.<p>

For Canna's part, as much as she tried, she could not keep the blush from her face.

_Curses of pale skin_. The thin white shirt was indeed too large for her, running well past her hips, and with sleeves that dangled from her hands.

Without thinking, Canna turned around to pick up her leather armor and froze.

King Thorin Oakenshield was not wearing a shirt.

He was not as hulking as other dwarves, but his arms bulged with muscle and even his back was well-formed and strong, despite the multiple scars that scattered over it.

Canna had seen plenty of bare-chested dwarves in her time, so her reaction to the king astounded her.

_Perhaps it is _because _he is the king_, she mused. _Or perhaps it is our circumstances. Or perhaps I just hit my head one too many times_.

She chuckled at herself. The sound made Thorin turn around, and now it was his turn to stare.

His shirt may be too big for Canna, but its thin material allowed him to clearly see the outline of her body as she absently bent to grab her armor.

She may not fit the current ideal of dwarven beauty, but she was beautiful.

Canna glanced back up to see Thorin's eyes on her, his gaze heated with something that was not angry, but…something else.

Canna frowned. "What is it?" Now that he was wearing a shirt, her blush had thankfully subsided.

Thorin turned away and shook his head. "'Tis nothing," he growled. They quickly finished dressing and readied their rejuvenated horse.

"What is his name?" Canna asked as she rubbed the horse's snout.

Thorin scoffed, "How should I know? I do not have time to worry about such things?"

"Oh, and I suppose I should not bother to learn the names of those under my command either, for that is such a frivolous thing to learn!" she snapped angrily. No matter how handsome the steely-eyed dwarf was, his arrogance grated her nerves.

"You realize we would both be dead without this horse, do you? Should that not make him _worthy_ of a name, King?" she spat.

"Will you never learn respect?" he yelled angrily. It did not matter if they were lost in a deserted land; he was still king.

Canna threw his own words back at him. "Will _you_ never learn respect? Does being king give you the right to treat all others with so little civility?"

"You make me regret rescuing you."

With Thorin's words, both settled for simply glaring and ignoring each other as their damp clothes were packed away. Unaware to the other, both were thinking the same thought: how could they go from at least a caring relationship, to such anger in so short a time?

The day was very hot, and with the woods on the other side of the river, there was no shade in sight. But both dwarves silently decided to walk beside the horse, so the mount would not tire too quickly if they happened upon the orcs again.

Very soon, both dwarves were sweating under the blistering heat, but both plowed on. From the other side of the horse, Thorin snuck a glance at his comrade and again noticed how Canna's eyes remained ever watchful, but her face seemed much more relaxed.

Canna held the horse's reins and every-so-often gave the black beast a pat on the back.

Thorin fought with his pride for many minutes before finally acknowledging the fact that he would not get a better chance to learn more about this woman, and if his interest in her was fleeting or not.

"Where did you learn to ride a horse?" he asked at last.

Canna was surprised that the stubborn dwarf had been the one to break the silence, but she smiled at his effort. "We had a few horses in the fishing village, to pull the wagons when the men went to trade in the inner realm. My father taught me how to care for them, and later I met a stable-master in my travels. He was most willing to teach me, although I do not think he had ever taught a dwarf before. I am still no master rider, as you have seen, but I am fond of these creatures."

Thorin nodded. "Tell me of your travels."

"Oh, this journey may not be long enough then," Canna laughed. Still, she told him. Some of her stories were thrilling and courageous, some amusing enough to make Thorin laugh as he had not in many, many years. Other tales spoke of underlying pain and sadness.

By the time night fell, all were exhausted, but also content. As they drank from the river, Thorin was struck with the realization that, up till now, he knew relatively nothing about the woman he was so intrigued with. Perhaps it truly had been base desires, with the added effect of coming from one who did not treat him as king, but as a man.

But now, hearing her tell stories of her own past, Thorin felt he was finally seeing this maiden for what she was: vulnerable. She hid it well with her deceptive openness, her prowess, her wit, but truly she was in pain.

No dwarf could speak with a steady voice of some of her tales and not feel their souls torn apart. Thorin had only received hints – the careful avoidance of details during a story of a goblin lair, narrowed eyebrows when speaking of a Man's brothel that had caught fire.

They had no means to create a fire, so once again all three huddled together for warmth.

"I think I shall name him 'Hurin'," Canna announced suddenly.

Thorin started. "What?"

"The horse. If you will not name him, then I shall."

"Hurin?" The name sounded familiar to him, and he said as much.

"Ay, 'tis an old tale I learned in a Man settlement. Not a cheerful tale, but one that would not have occurred at all if not for the existence of Hurin."

"I see…" Thorin remembered reading of it from an old scroll when he was still prince. "It would have been better if Hurin had not been born; much suffering would have never come to pass."

"No, that is not so!" Canna exclaimed fiercely. "If not for Hurin, Turin would never have been born, nor his sister and wife. He would never have defeated the dragon, and many more would have died at the hands of that beast." As an afterthought, she added, "Much like you."

Thorin stared at her. With a roll of her eyes, the pale-skinned woman continued. "If your grandfather, Thror, had not existed, then it is true that Erebor would not have attracted such a wealth as to draw Smaug. But then all that has occurred since then – the defeat of Azhog, the death of Smaug himself – none of it would have come to pass, at least so soon. Many more would have died at their hands had they continued to live. Every tragedy is a double-edged sword."

Thorin absorbed her confident words like a dwarf parched with thirst; a wound he had not even known existed closed, some small burden was lifted from his shoulders.

"You," he murmured by her ear, staring at her face. Amber eyes gazed back at him with puzzlement.

"You…come here." And with that, he kissed her.

* * *

><p><strong>Longest chapter yet! I'm pretty proud of myself. At the moment I'm trying to find a rhythm to the story that works with future scenes I have in mind! <strong>

**I got so many reviews and you'll never know how much they motivate me. Thank you so much, truly. Let me know what you think!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

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><p>They had decided to ride the horse – Hurin, Canna kept reminding him – as their lack of food emphasized the need to hurry their journey. Canna sat behind Thorin, which was not to his liking, but he was in no position to argue.<p>

At first she had refused to touch him, but when Thorin picked up the pace, she was forced to grab onto his forearms to avoid falling. Thorin wished she would grab his waist instead, but he was not about to complain. Hiding a grin, he flexed his muscles, feeling smug when Canna let go with a gasp before a jolt forced her to grab hold again.

There was a breeze in the air today, for which all were most grateful.

When they stopped for rest at midday, Canna lavished affection on the newly named Hurin, who seemed to appreciate the attention, if the way he nuzzled her cheek was any indication.

Thorin hated the beast.

She had not said a word to him all day, except to remind him that the horse now had a name. The silence between them was oppressive, and Thorin almost wished that orcs would appear so he could unleash this frustration upon _something_.

The scene from last night would not stop playing in his head. Was it playing in hers? Had she simply erased it – him – from her memory, determined to move on?

She was oh, so determined to lead her life on her own.

Without him.

* * *

><p><em>Her lips were soft, unlike her hands. <em>

_He pressed his own lips harder against hers, trying to convey the turmoil of emotions within him. His lips were moving, dancing against hers._

_But she was not dancing with him._

_Her body had stiffened, her eyes staring forward blankly._

_It was like kissing stone. _

_Thorin pulled himself away, his blood on fire. _

_Canna's face was blank, her eyes focused ahead. It was truly unsettling. Thorin waited with baited breath, for her to say something, do something, be something. _

_Before long she snapped back to her surroundings, and rounded amber eyes swung towards him. _

"_Why did you do such a thing?" she exclaimed. Thorin could not tell if she was angry, excited, or just shocked. _

_At any rate, her question threw him off-guard. "Why would any dwarf do such a thing?" he growled in exasperation. "You…I…I wish to know you better."_

_Could he be any more of a bumbling fool? Even Bilbo Baggins could speak more eloquently than this. _

_Canna, in the meantime, was clearly not impressed. Her voice was menacing and low, almost a snarl. "I am not one for dalliances, King; 'tis not the dwarven way, as you should know."_

"_Think you that I merely desire a dalliance?" Thorin hissed. "Am I so low in your eyes? I am a king, from a long line of kings. It is not in my blood to succumb to such base desires."_

"_So you desire…what, then?"_

_The words were difficult to speak, but Thorin forced them out anyways. None of this had been planned, but he was king; he did not run from strange situations. "I desire a courtship."_

"_And eventually a queen, I presume!" Canna was incensed as she sprang to her feet and began pacing in front of him. _

_Thorin opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. _

"_Truly you are the most arrogant dwarf I've ever known, and that is truly something! You hardly know anything about me! I certainly know nothing about you. I thought you despised me, or at least found me an annoyance. Why this sudden change? Am I to believe that this –" she gestured to herself, "– is what you approve of in a queen? _

"_I am no queen." Her voice had softened, but held more conviction than ever. "I am nothing close to royalty. I am a traveler; I do not wish to settle anywhere. And, dwarflike or not, I prefer the fresh air under the sun and sea to a life underground. Nay, I am as far from being a queen as you are from truly knowing me. I do not know what spurred you to do such a thing, King, but I advise you to control your lust and think no more of this." _

_Up to this point, Thorin could pride himself on keeping his temper in check. But at the word "lust," his blood boiled hotter than Smaug's flames. _

"_When did I ever say I desired _you_?" he roared, finally rising to his full height. Canna may be tall for a dwarf dam, but Thorin still towered over her. _

"_You look more like an _elf _than a dwarf. You have nothing to your name, not even a home. All you can call yours are the clothes you wear and your swords, and neither are of any worth. Truly, that _anyone_, let alone a king, made you an offer should be considered a blessing from Mahal. For you are insignificant; you are nothing_."

_No sooner had the words left his mouth than Thorin's blood, once boiling, promptly froze. _

_It is true that he had used such words as "insignificant" to in his thoughts of her while they were in Erebor; but to speak such things, especially to the woman he hoped to court, was low indeed. Not since his bout of dragon sickness had he behaved in a manner so unfitting a king, or even a dwarf. _

_Thorin closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and then opened his eyes with an apology on his lips. But Canna was no longer in front of him. She was laid down on the other side of Hurin, facing away from him with a rigid back and tense shoulders. _

_Thorin was not one to grovel, no matter how much he may be wrong. With a huff, he returned to his place. Hurin lay between them, peacefully ignorant of the tension between the two dwarves. _

_Thorin tried to lay down and rest, for tomorrow would be another long day, but his words hung over him like a dark cloud of disappointment. _

_With a growl, he sat up. He did not turn around to look at her as he spoke. "My words were ill-spoken. My tongue may not be silver, but my heart is true, and that is what I offer. I do not take well to refusals; do not think I will fall back on my plans so quickly. You will change your mind."_

_His sleep was angry and restless that night._

* * *

><p>Hurin was the first to detect their presence. They were setting a quick pace when his nostrils flared and he halted abruptly. Canna nearly fell off, but managed to catch hold of Thorin's arm and regain her place.<p>

"What happened?" she exclaimed.

"I know not," Thorin replied as he tried to calm the startled horse. Hurin continued to neigh and prance around loudly.

A feeling of unease settled upon Canna. Just as she turned her head to survey the woods on the other side of the river, an arrow sliced through the air and nicked her arm. With a shout of pain, Canna lost her balance and fell to the ground as more arrows fell upon them.

Although the wound was minor, Canna felt a sudden wave of nausea hit her. Her eyesight blackened and she felt more than saw a warm body hit the earth beside her.

'_Tis not fair_, she thought as she closed her eyes. _Poisoned arrows is not a fair fight_.

* * *

><p><strong>I am truly very sorry for such a long wait and the relative shortness of this chapter; I've just been so busy. <strong>

**But this plot is definitely going in the direction I want it to now. I can't wait to write the next chapters!**

**Let me know what you think, please! I know I haven't written a lot from Canna't point of view, but that's mainly because she's open about her feelings, especially now that she's outside the mountain. **

**We'll definitely get way more of her in the following chapters.**

**By the way, some of the insights you gave me from last chapter were amazing! Some of you were right on the dot, and others actually made me reconsider future plot points.**

**I can't wait to hear your opinion!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

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><p>Pain.<p>

Canna was no stranger to it; the dangers of her way of living were too great. And she was a dwarf – it took more than danger and injuries to defeat her her.

Dwarves knew pain, and they knew danger, and they embraced it.

But if any dwarf had ever felt fear, Canna would not know, for they never showed it, or spoke of it.

So Canna too, would never admit it. She was a dwarf, after all.

Her eyesight was still dark and blurry, and her head rang like the horns of battle. She could make out the dark shapes of orcs swarming around them. Her wrists were tightly bound with rope, enough to numb her fingers.

They were all speaking in their harsh tongue of hisses and shrieks, and Canna had enough control over her mind to keep herself from groaning at the soreness in her limbs. It appeared to be past dusk from the lack of light, and they were still in the woods.

Her swords and sheaths were gone.

_I am afraid_.

A body was next to her, warm and heavy. She could smell fire and rust.

The King was by her, alive. And from the twitches of his muscles, he was beginning to come to.

_I am afraid_.

Either the king was in far more pain than she, or he was a fool, as evidenced by the groan he let out upon reawakening.

At once the orcs around them shrieked and huddled around them. Canna swore in her mind – truly, _this_ was why she was safer traveling alone.

She gave up the pretense of remaining unconscious and opened her eyes fully, to be greeted by the grotesque faces of the orcs as they hovered over her. Their foul breaths made her stomach quiver, and she resisted the urge to spit in their faces.

Beside her, the king was just now becoming aware of their plight as he gave a roar and struggled with the bonds that tied him. The orcs laughed and gibbered and kicked him in the stomach.

"No!" Canna yelled. Suddenly hands were on her form and she was hoisted to her – bound – feet. Now that she was upright, she could more clearly assess their situation, and what she saw did not bring her hope.

She could see as many as three hundred orcs, but she was certain there were more hidden away or scouting the area. What was worse, they appeared to be organized, as most bands of orcs were not. Their armor was strong and their weapons dangerous. If Canna had maintained any doubts that the first attack had been due to an unhappy chance meeting, she had them no more. These orcs had planned that attack, as well as this one. She could not yet see if their leader was here, but did know one thing: if they did not know the identity of her companion, then it was crucial that they not find out.

_I am afraid_.

By now Thorin had also been dragged to his feet. His eyes were red; Canna expected hers to be the same. The wild, desperate look in his gaze as he beheld her faded slightly. Canna gave a tiny nod.

They remained standing for some time, impassive under the sneers and hisses of the orcs. At length, a large orc with a strange symbol on his helm strode towards them.

"You must be the leader. The king," he hissed at Thorin. Canna started – it was rare to find an orc that spoke the Common Tongue.

Thorin was opening his mouth to speak. Canna was quicker.

"Nay, he is not. I am."

At once the orc's face appeared inches from hers. She could hear Thorin snarl a warning, but she kept her gaze forward.

"You? A female?" the orc sneered.

"Yes. I am Dis, sister of Thorin, Lady of Erebor. He –" she nodded in Thorin's direction "– is my guardsman. I demand you release us at once, you vile creatures, lest –"

Canna had expected the slap. That did not mean the pain was any less.

_I am afraid_.

"No!" Thorin yelled as he tried to lunge forward. He was stopped by three orcs and slammed to the ground.

"Enough!" Canna yelled, sounding as commanding as she possible could. Her eyes met Thorin's. His were pleading with her not to do this. Hers were assuring him that this was the right – nay, the only – way.

Canna was no fool; she understood the ways of the world as well as any other dwarf.

The cold truth was that, as much as she could deny it, the life of the king of Erebor was worth far more than her own. It was her duty to sacrifice her own life to save that of one on whom so many depended.

_I am afraid_.

"What is it you want?" Canna asked of the orc leader. At least, he appeared to be the leader. He was certainly the leader of this band of orcs, but whether he could muster such strategy, Canna remained unsure.

The orc leered. "If you are the king's sister, that is better. You send your servant to your king. Tell him we will offer your life in exchange for his own, or the life of his heir."

"No!" This time Canna and Thorin were in unison.

"Silence!" the orc replied. "If he does not do as we say, we will behead you and send your head to your king as a…present. He has no worthy army; we are too great in number. He will agree."

Canna swore – truly, this plan was well thought out. Although the king would never sacrifice his life or that of his heir, the beheading of the king's sister would spark great turmoil and unrest in a still-fragile kingdom. Canna supposed that, had they known that they had the king himself, they would have demanded the death of his heirs in return for his own life.

_I am afraid_.

"I am not afraid of you." Canna kept her head high as she boldly met her captor's gaze. "Send my guardsman to Erebor with the message. I am sure my brother will reply."

"And if he doesn't come to us within three days," the orc hissed, "you will be killed."

Canna nodded gravely, but frowned. "Even with no rest, my guardsman can not travel to Erebor so quickly."

The orc laughed, an awful sound, and then called out some order in Orcish. Canna's heart leaped in her throat when she saw two orcs lead a fighting black horse towards them.

Hurin was alive and unharmed. Hurin could carry the king to safety. To Erebor.

It took all her willpower to remain upright under the weight of her relief.

However, if they had kept Hurin, the orcs had thought ahead; that much was obvious.

Canna turned to Thorin. She considered speaking in Khuzdul, but knew that the orc would not allow that.

"Deliver the orc's message to the king. Travel quickly; do not stop until you reach the safety of Erebor. Live long and well. This is my ruling." Canna's voice shook as she spoke the last two sentences. King Thorin, son of Thrain, Lord Under the Mountain, would be the last dwarf she ever laid eyes on. For he would not return for her; no king would risk their own men, his own life, to save an inconsequential dwarf. Canna was no fool; she understood the world, far more than the king would give her credit for.

"Go! Do not try to come back!" the orc leader roared as Thorin remained unmoving despite having his bonds cut. His remained fixed on Canna's. Canna nodded and gave him as big a smile as she could muster. If her eyesight was blurred around the edges, she did not know why.

"Go," she whispered. With a jolt, Thorin gave an almost pained cry as he leaped onto Hurin and charged out of the woods. Just once more he turned around and met her eyes before disappearing from her sight.

The orcs now closed in on her, laughing and jeering.

"So," Canna murmured as she gazed upon their faces, "this is how I die."

_I am so afraid_.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, what do you think? Were you expecting this? What do you think will happen? What do you think of Canna? Please let me know your opinion!<strong>

**By the way, thank you, Stardurin1217, for reviewing so much as you read through this! It was really interesting to read what you were thinking as you were catching up with the chapters. **


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